Taming a Tiger
by EK
Summary: COMPLETE. KK, PlatinumJade Enishi has forgotten everything........and we mean EVERYTHING. Will understanding the past change the future, and tame the white tiger?
1. of celebrities and lost memories

Hi, this is EK.   
  
Long note from me first before I start:   
  
Fire and Magic, I'm not forgetting, but it'll be on hold for a while. I realize now that AU, and fantasy in particular, is definitely not my thing. How to Impress a Girl 101, Sabbie-chan, will continue, slowly, but it will be finished.  
  
I'll still write, but by June, my material will probably be coming out more slowly. I'm getting into medical school, you see. Only this fic will keep running over the school year. When school work drives me crazy, I might write one-shots. When I'm free and in the mood, I'll fix up Fire and Magic.   
  
If you're new to EK's material, be warned that I am the Platinum/Jade writer. I support an alternate pairing.   
  
This is the sequel (of a sequel) many have been asking of me, although this probably isn't what you were all expecting. It will incorporate things from both Nine Months and White and Black. For those who are new, don't worry. I learned from one of the FF.net columns that sequels should stand alone, and that's what I intend to do, make this stand alone. I will explain myself when I take things from the first two stories.   
  
Nine Months, White and Black, and this story are post-Jinchuu arc material, so if you haven't read it over at www.maigo-chan.org/ruroken.html , some of my material might not make sense. Go read up on the Jinchuu arc already, and get to know one of the handsomest and most enigmatic villains ever created. ^^   
  
Suggestions and comments will always be welcome, don't be afraid of me! As I wrote this first chappie, I'm reading through Stephen King's "On Writing", a most interesting and helpful book. It'll show in the material, hopefully.   
  
Initial inspiration: Elie from Rave, an LRT ride, one of Sabbie's ideas (sorry!). Hope you like it.   
  
................................  
  
Meiji 15  
  
Article from a Tokyo newspaper:   
  
"Doctors from the national hospital have allowed their miracle patient to be discharged yesterday morning with a clean bill of health. He is currently residing at a hotel near the hospital, until he could resume contact with any relatives. The young man's case continues to baffle both Western-trained and traditionally-trained doctors, as one that has broken all current medical knowledge.   
  
  
  
"The young man was first brought to the national hospital a month ago, more dead than alive from severe loss of blood. He had suffered massive blows to the head and showed signs of prolonged asphyxiation. It is assumed that he was beaten in a ship then thrown overboard to drown in Tokyo Bay, where he was first found by fishermen. Doctors gave him only a week to live at most in that condition. Instead, the man not only rallied, but even recovered completely from his injuries.   
  
"However, while the man has completely regained his physical capabilities, he continues to suffer from a mental gap. He has full use of language and movement, but he cannot seem to remember anything about his past. Doctors speculate that this is because of blows to parts of the brain affecting memory and recall. For now, all they can do is wait and see if his condition will improve or deteriorate.   
  
"The young man is known only as Shinichi, and aged approximately 25 to 30 years. He is described by hospital representatives as tall, and of medium build, with no birthmarks. He is most recognized by his snow-white hair. Police have warned that this characteristic is also found in a man reputed to be in the government's wanted list, but the hospital administration has refused to comment until the man can speak for himself.   
  
"Any information useful to this young man's case is to be given to the national hospital or to this newspaper."   
  
..................................  
  
Spring was quickly making way for summer. The light hues of the cherry blossoms and new life were quietly changing into more lively colors. It was a wonderful time to be alive.   
  
Just a month ago, old friends from various places had met. The Himuras prepared a spread near the forest, just for all of them. Yahiko tagged his Tsubame along-yes, Tsubame was HIS, and all of Tokyo dared not touch the young woman if they wanted to stay alive. Sanosuke favored them with one of his rare letters, reporting that he was in Mongolia, and soon on his way back to Japan. Megumi made a special trip from Aizu just to be with them. So did Aoshi and Misao from Kyoto.   
  
No, they were not married.   
  
Promises had been made. Aoshi had no plans to break them, and Enishi had all plans to keep them.   
  
Roughly a year had already passed since a weapons smuggling ring in Kyoto had been rounded up, thanks to Shinomori Aoshi, Makimachi Misao, Seta Soujirou, and Yukishiro Enishi. Upon the request of the government, and in exchange for continuous liberty, Yukishiro agreed to help eliminate at least his former section of the mafia for good. By all intelligence reports, he had already succeeded, and was only completing its destruction.   
  
But the last report from Yukishiro himself was received in Kyoto four months ago. Misao no longer had any idea where he was, and what he was doing. Consequently, Yukishiro's brother-in-law knew even less. Both were getting quite worried.   
  
  
  
......................................  
  
In the front yard of a dojo, a little redhaired boy was tossing a paper ball to the summer sky. He was three years old, but already quite an active little fellow. He ran happily around the yard, trying to catch the paper ball as it fell back to the ground. Most of the time he didn't, but that did not worry him any bit. He just tossed the ball up in the air again and ran to catch it.   
  
The little boy made a running toss as he neared the front gate, and waited for his paper ball to fall back to earth. Funny, it was not coming down. He looked up, and saw that it had caught in the small roofing above the wooden gate. He jumped up to get it, but he was far too small. He tried shouting for it to come down, but it would not obey him. So he did the only thing he could. He bawled for all he was worth.   
  
He cried thus for what to him was a very long time, but to his mother would be two minutes.   
  
He eventually noticed a big patch of white in front of him, patting his head. Now, that was not something Uncle Yahiko would do. Uncle Yahiko would rumple his hair and tickle him until he cried. So, who was this new person?   
  
Whoever this new person was, he smiled at him, then reached up to the roofing, and retrieved his paper ball. He then gave it to the little boy, still wondering who this nice man was. The nice man was wearing something like those things he saw on policemen-pants, his mommy taught him, and a hat that covered his hair. And he was tall, taller than his daddy, certainly.   
  
Aside from getting his ball back, there was something the little boy liked about the tall nice man. Maybe it was because he was so different from his daddy. His daddy was always being sweet and polite and cheerful, to the point of being annoying. And his daddy was always obeying his mommy, which he did not think was right, in his little-boy way. The tall nice man had a look to him that he knew even his mommy would obey. He got his way when he wanted it, and the little boy liked that.   
  
As a token of friendship, the little redhead tossed his paper ball at the tall nice man. The man smirked slightly and tossed it back to him. He jumped up and down happily and tossed the ball again at him.   
  
This continued five more times, then the boy got bored and ran off to find his mommy.   
  
He found her in the kitchen, chopping up some carrots. He tugged at her kimono and begged her to follow him. He wanted her to meet the nice man who got his paper ball back. She eventually finished chopping and followed his lead.   
  
She seemed rather surprised to see the man already inside the dojo gates without a care in the world.   
  
"Can I help you?" she asked.   
  
"Does a certain Himura live here?" the man got straight to the point, unlike most of Mommy's visitors who said a lot of things first.   
  
" 'mura! 'mura!" the little boy chimed. That was his last name!   
  
"More than one," his mommy smiled at the man and at him. "This little tyke happens to be Himura Kenji, and I am his mother. Are you here to inquire about kendo lessons?"   
  
The man shook his head. "When could I speak to him?"   
  
"I could call for him; he's at the back of the house doing the laundry," she replied. "May I know who is asking?"   
  
"Eni-chan! Eni-chan!" the little boy chimed up again, answering for his new tall friend.   
  
Mommy laughed. "Maybe you mean 'o-nii-chan', my sweet?"   
  
"Eni-chan! Eni-chan!" he repeated.   
  
The man answered his mommy, as he took off his hat to reveal a white head. "I could only remember that I used to know a Himura, and someone directed me here. They call me Shinichi now."  
  
But his mommy did not hear a word. She was only looking at his snow-white head.   
  
"You're back..........you're finally back.........Eni......Eni............KENSHIN!!" she suddenly yelled.   
  
Her scream sent the little boy's daddy rushing to the front gate. "What has happened, Kaoru-dono? Is Kenji alright?"   
  
"Eni-chan! Eni-chan!" the boy tugged at his daddy and pointed at their visitor.   
  
Daddy looked at the tall nice man from head to foot. "So it is, Kenji-kun, so it is!" he declared happily, as he shook his hand. "You gave Misao and me quite a scare! We have not heard from you for such a long time! I trust that your mission is complete?"  
  
"I am sorry," the man withdrew his hand, "but do I know you?"   
  
Daddy paled considerably.   
  
"My name is Shinichi.......Shiroyuki Shinichi, I think," the man explained. "I recall that I used to know a Himura. Could you lead me to him?"   
  
"Shinichi?" his daddy asked. "Masaka.........you are..........."   
  
"The Shinichi from the hospital? Yes."   
  
"Oh..........no..........." his mommy muttered. "What do we do, anata?"   
  
"Shall we talk about it over tea?" was his daddy's only reply, as he escorted the nice man and his mommy inside the house.   
  
Little Kenji smiled.   
  
Eni-chan was here to stay!   
  
  
  
.............................  
  
o-nii-san/chan-older brother  
  
anata-sweet term for a spouse, usually wife to husband   
  
masaka-Oh, no  
  
I didn't use "chichi" and "haha" for daddy and mommy, because the English equivalents get the point across better. ^^   
  
For some odd reason, I like calling Enishi "Eni-chan", unlike most fanfic writers who use Eni-kun. "Shinichi" is taken from Kudo Shinichi, otherwise known as Edogawa Conan of Detective Conan. White and Black readers know the story behind this name. I will re-explain it eventually for this story. I hope you liked it! 


	2. of friends and relatives

Hi, folks. It's me again. I have FINALLY seen Kenshin's history in the TV series, which I say is better-looking than the OAV version. I am so glad that, the RK episodes that MOST count, I first saw in Japanese, not English. That would be the Sayonara and the history/ARNH eps. Nothing against dubs, but for RK the originals are better.   
  
Thanks for all the initial support. Kenji really doesn't like his daddy very much, according to Watsuki; I just speculate WHY. JML-point well taken. I'll explain myself over the coming chapters. Yes, I own the Kaden, too. Firuze-nee-san-don't worry about me. I like JML for being a constructive reviewer. ^^   
  
.............................  
  
Snow............a forest clearing.........  
  
White plum flowers.....................snow...............  
  
Blood...........  
  
What does it all mean?   
  
Himura............  
  
Nee-san...........  
  
I have a nee-san, I am sure...............  
  
.................Himura...............met nee-san...............something happened.........something...........something........  
  
........................  
  
"I do not like wasting time," the white-haired man began as he sipped his tea. "If you know anything that is helpful to me, tell me quickly."   
  
"But, where do we start?" Kaoru looked at her husband with apprehension.   
  
"From the very beginning, of course."   
  
"Maybe if you tell us first what you DO remember, we can tell you from there," Kenshin suggested.   
  
The man bit his lip. "I am telling you, there is nothing I can recall," he pulled at his snowy hair.   
  
"Three weeks ago, I found myself in a bed, surrounded by people in white coats, bandages all over my head and body. They said I was found floating in Tokyo Bay. They told me I was lucky I was found, luckier to be alive, with all the damages I had incurred. But for the life of me, I do not know how I got all those injuries. I do not know who would throw me into the sea as shark bait. I do not remember my name, who I am, who I used to be. They told me it was because of the blows to my head, that I would get it all back. It was not very assuring.  
  
"I know it annoys you, but believe me, it annoys me even more than you would know," he said. "I can sense that you people know me, and I think you are hiding something from me. It would do you good not to. Now talk." He sighed. "Please."   
  
Arrogant demeanor notwithstanding, the man's eyes begged the couple to answer. Earnest, seeking eyes. They could not be ignored. They must be told the truth.   
  
"Name, age, living relations, what I do, where I live-why is that too hard to answer?" he implored.   
  
"Please excuse us for a moment." Kenshin stood up, and motioned for his wife to follow. He had one of those looks that he rarely used, one that Kaoru knew not to contradict. She gave a final glance at her son, napping on the floor, and followed.   
  
He led her to the kitchen.   
  
"Allow sessha to do the talking. Add or subtract nothing."   
  
She nodded, then looked up at him. "What will you tell him?"   
  
"Only as much as he needs to know," he replied, eyes afar off.   
  
Kaoru felt it, very strongly. Not fear. Just disquiet. He wanted so desperately to forget the past. He was being asked to remember it, and retell it.   
  
A little after Kenji's first birthday, he had gone to a barber and had most of his long locks cut off. He was now sporting a moptop. The scars would keep reminding him of a terrible past, but at least his hair no longer had to. It was a time for new, happier memories.   
  
And if he had to remember a terrible past, she would be there to help him through it. Her hand in his, told him so. He smiled gratefully.   
  
"And..........Misao?" she inquired. "When do I wire Kyoto?"   
  
Misao had constantly pestered the Himuras for any information they might have, that the police-or Aoshi, out of concern--could be keeping from her. It was understandable, after all. As Enishi's fiancée, she had a right to know.   
  
The former weapons dealer had opted to stay in Kyoto. Over the last three years, he had started and managed a legitimate metalworks factory, which soon became a large revenue earner. Within that time he became re-acquainted with Makimachi Misao, became friends and more than friends. When he left to eliminate the remains of his section of the Shanghai mafia, it was with a promise to return and marry her in a year. Aoshi did not oppose this; he and Enishi gave her a chance to choose, and she made her choice.   
  
It would be unfair for her to see a shell of a man.   
  
"Not just yet," Kenshin replied. "At least, not with him like this."   
  
They returned.   
  
But instead of their icy guest, they found a tall man, playing patty-cake with their little boy, legs crossed before him. Singing the whole song, doing the whole sequence.   
  
"Eni-chan play good!" Kenji praised.   
  
"Really?" he asked uneasily. "One more time?" His playmate clapped and beamed.   
  
Soon Kenji was riding piggy-bank on his whitehaired friend's back. His friend galloped him around the dining hall with an unusual smile on his face. Kenji meanwhile enjoyed his strong arms and confident grip as much as the higher view.   
  
"Unreal," Kaoru commented.   
  
"Hai, de gozaru," Kenshin agreed.   
  
"Are you sure you're not just feeling sorry for a newspaper celebrity?"   
  
"Unfortunately, yes, I am sure," he sweatdropped.   
  
The guest finally noticed the parents of his playmate. "Nice little boy," he complimented as he patted his head. "Kenji, correct?"   
  
The parents nodded wordlessly. Most of the time, Kenji was NOT a nice little boy. Especially to his daddy.   
  
He lowered Kenji to the floor, and resumed his businesslike air. "Let's make a deal. It seems that I get along well with this chap, and I cannot depend on the hospital forever. If you allow me to stay here, I will work for my room and board. Maybe I can help you with Kenji..."   
  
"Stay......here......?" Kaoru had to take this all in.   
  
"Oro?"   
  
"Eni-chan stay here! Ne, 'ba-chan?" Kenji tugged at his mother's kimono.   
  
"Why not?" he smirked. "I'm this boy's relative."   
  
"He has a point, Kaoru-dono," the father relented.   
  
"Gotcha!" he raised a finger. "Fact 1: I AM related to you. Fact 2: Since the mother told me that his name is Himura Kenji, YOU are the Himura I seek. Combining that, Fact 3: I am related to Himura-san, by some way. Well?"   
  
Both were astounded at him. He had only lost his facts and figures. His personality, his power of intuition and calculation, was still perfectly intact.   
  
It was him alright.   
  
"Yukishiro Enishi," Kenshin acknowledged.   
  
"Hm?"   
  
"You are Yukishiro Enishi, a very .......competent businessman," Kenshin said. "I am Himura Kenshin, and I am your brother-in-law, by first marriage to your sister, Yukishiro Tomoe." He lowered his head.   
  
Kaoru looked at her husband. He had those sad eyes again.   
  
"Tell me more," Enishi said simply.   
  
A long pause between all three. Even little Kenji knew that the silence should not be broken.   
  
Then Kenshin raised his head, and tucked his moptop hair behind his ears with a patent rurouni grin. "You are welcome to stay here."   
  
"Kenshin!" Kaoru half-protested, half-inquired.   
  
"Tell me more, please!" the other pressed.   
  
"Another day, another day," he waved them away as he exited. "I will back for dinner, koishii. I will just take a walk......." He stopped at the door. "Oh, and Kaoru-dono, please. Add or subtract nothing." He then walked out.   
  
"What does he mean by that?" Enishi asked Kaoru.   
  
Kaoru picked up her son, and smiled. "Come back tomorrow, when he is ready for you."   
  
  
  
............................  
  
The next chapters will be longer. ^^ This chapter just refused to be a long chapter, that's all. I'm gaining steam.   
  
For those who don't know. When Kenji was introduced in the final chapters of the RK manga, Kenshin had a new hairdo. He had cut his hair up to his chin, more or less. Not exactly good-looking, not exactly the Beatles moptop as I say here for lack of a better term. Watsuki said something about not wanting to make Kenshin look like another shorthaired anime bishonen.   
  
Sabbie-Gomen, I think it was Iceangel. ^^   
  
JML-Enishi isn't his "uncle" yet, more like a large friend, for now. And I think it's Shinichi, no dash.   
  
Firuze-nee-san-Thanks much!   
  
Bee-Jolt? Really? Sorry!   
  
Dallisse-I'm done with On Writing, and I'm so glad I bought it. Yes, I'm cruel, and amnesia is one of my favorite torture devices. ^^   
  
BittersweetKandy-Thanks much!   
  
Mi-Thanks!  
  
Cat H-Chocolate? Will do!   
  
Devil-Thanks! Will continue!   
  
See you next time! 


	3. of brooms and swords

Hello! Many of you had been asking about Kenji's association with his Eni-chan. For now he doesn't know that Enishi is his uncle. He has just found something in common with him, that isn't present with his daddy. After all, they're both rather spoiled and both quite impatient people. I call it a meeting of kindred spirits, people who have a lot in common with each other and get along well together. The first book I read is Anne of Green Gables, and in it Anne Shirley knows she will be Diana Barry's friend and kindred spirit only minutes after they meet.   
  
I apologize, but majority of this chapter will only make sense if you know your Jinchuu arc. Sorry.   
  
........................  
  
"Enishi!"   
  
I hear her..........it's her............my nee-san...........  
  
"Enishi!"   
  
I remember......I am that little boy.........  
  
"Enishi! Come and get your supper!"   
  
"Hai, nee-san!"   
  
She was pretty, nee-san, that I remember very well. She was quiet, and she did not smile a lot.   
  
But she smiled for me.   
  
........................  
  
"Eni-chan! Eni-chan!"   
  
Kenji greeted Enishi as he appeared at the gate, the next day.   
  
"What, exactly, do you find in me, you little carrot-top?" he had to ask. Most children shied away from him, whether in or out of the hospital.   
  
"I like Eni-chan, that's all!" the little boy replied with a grin from ear to ear. He then ran off and left his friend with his thoughts.   
  
But what was there to like? Enishi had to ask. He was stubborn, he was proud, and he was irritable. He kept to himself, he always wanted his way. And he was not a Shinichi, but a person named Enishi.   
  
When he returned to the hotel last night, he asked around if anyone knew anything about a Yukishiro Enishi. Almost everyone said they had not heard of such a name. One or two, however, mentioned seeing the name in the newspapers from several years ago.   
  
"Why was he in the papers?" he asked casually of these people.   
  
"He was arrested...............a smuggler of some sort............that's all I remember," was the answer he got.   
  
A smuggler? Him?   
  
So who was Shiroyuki Shinichi?   
  
"One of the fishermen identified you as Shiroyuki Shinichi," a doctor told him in the hospital. "One of the more prominent people in Kyoto. He just did not remember why you are famous."   
  
So, if he was this prominent person in Kyoto, who was this arrested smuggler, Yukishiro Enishi? And why did Himura say he was this Yukishiro Enishi? If one was an assumed name, an alias, which one was it? Which personality was real, and which had been invented over time?   
  
And why was his sister's voice ringing in his ears, calling him "Enishi"? Was that, then, his real name? If so, why was he a smuggler?   
  
Too many questions! Too few answers!   
  
"Enishi? Are you alright?" a female voice asked from in front of him. "Enishi?"   
  
"Sorry, I do not know who you are talking about," he replied, a hand on his pounding head. "My name is Shinichi."   
  
"Do you want to lie down, Enishi? It's still early, and I haven't kept the futons yet."   
  
He practically shouted at the young woman before him. "Why do you keep calling me Enishi, woman? I am not that man! Tell me I am not that man. A smuggler.......arrested.........years ago?" He gripped the side of his head hard.   
  
The ground began to spin, as more questions spun around him. Why won't this woman answer? What did the woman, Himura's wife, know? And how come he felt that he had met this woman before? They had talked before............in an island.........who was this woman?   
  
Who was this Himura?   
  
Quite suddenly, the world blackened around him.   
  
He opened his eyes to find his carrot-top little friend peering anxiously at him. He smiled weakly, and patted his head. He looked around, and saw that he had not reached the aforementioned futons. He was leaned on a post of the front porch, a cool cloth on his forehead.   
  
He met the eyes of the woman he shouted at.   
  
He knew her.   
  
"Kamiya!"   
  
He shuddered. He knew her, but he did not know why. Worse, at the back of his confused mind, he knew he had done this woman a major disservice. He had not violated her, he was sure, but he had done something terrible. For revenge..........but for what?   
  
He knew that, whatever it is he had done to her, and to Himura, she remembered it, too. It showed too plainly in her eyes. Shock. Fright.   
  
Who was he before? Who was this Enishi?   
  
Firstly, though, he had to take away the fear in the young mother's face. Answers would come later.   
  
"Gomen, Himura-san," he said, wiping his forehead with the cloth. "How long did I black out?"   
  
"Only ten minutes," she breathed a sigh of relief, then smiled with understanding. "I got you to sit on the porch before you fainted."   
  
"I apologize for the outburst. I had a rough night."   
  
"No problem. But shall I call you Shinichi, instead?"   
  
"He did say my name was Enishi, correct? I had best be called that way."   
  
"Eni-chan alright now?" Kenji asked.   
  
"Yes, my little friend, I'll be alright," he assured him.   
  
Satisfied, the boy grinned and ran off again, chasing the butterflies near the bushes.   
  
Enishi envied the boy. Kenji's questions had simple answers. Kenji's problems had quick solutions. It was not the same for him.   
  
  
  
Kaoru led him to a spare room in the house, and told him he could use it as long as necessary. For an hour he unpacked very few belongings, all given to him out of charity-a fact he rather despised. He was not sure why, but these hand-me-downs were WAY beneath his taste. There had to be a way to get his own money, and to get his own things.   
  
Kaoru then gave him a broom and orders to sweep the front and back yards. In less than an hour, she was surprised to see it cleaner than she had ever done personally, and second only to Kenshin's quality of maintenance.   
  
"How in the heavens did you do that, Enishi?" she asked, stunned.   
  
"I worked and slaved to the top of the organization," he explained nonchalantly, "Did you think I only bribed and killed my way up the ranks? I was known always for clean work." Suddenly he held his head. "Where did that come from?"   
  
Kaoru was too astounded at the front yard to care.   
  
The assistant kendo teacher was astounded as well.   
  
"Wow, Kaoru! How did you get the place so clean?" Yahiko praised from the gate. He was reporting for work, already 15 years old and proud owner of a sakabatou. In kendo skills he was his mentor's equal, and in sword skills second in Tokyo only to Kenshin. At least, he said so.   
  
"Are you mocking me?" Kaoru retorted.   
  
"Maybe, you old hag," he fanned the flame. "The yard is spotless, and it never is when YOU clean."   
  
Yahiko finally noticed Kaoru's whitehaired guest, who still held the broom. "What's he doing here, raccoon?" He put a hand to the sword.   
  
"Who is he?" Enishi asked Kaoru.   
  
"Don't give me that, you whitehaired psycho!" Yahiko glared. "Hasn't he learned his lesson four years ago?" He began to draw out the sakabatou. "Or shall I teach you again?"   
  
"Whitehaired psycho?" The accused looked at him in surprise.   
  
"You're getting on my nerves, Yukishiro Enishi," Yahiko warned. "Changed man or not, you will keep your distance from Kenshin and Kaoru if I can help it. Draw your sword." With that he placed the reverse blade in front of him.   
  
"Sword? I don't have one." Still, instinctively, he took the broom and held it firmly in both hands before him. He assumed a defensive stance.   
  
"Stop it, both of you!" Kaoru begged. She found Kenji running past, grabbed for him, and kept him in place before her.   
  
"Not a chance, Kaoru!" Yahiko answered. "I'll show this man his place!"   
  
He charged.   
  
He swung the sword across to hit his opponent's chest, but met the broomstick in mid-attack. It was quickly swept up and hit Yahiko above his left ear, forcing the younger man to back away two steps. Yahiko tried a direct thrust, but his opponent swung the stick like a bat, brushed the sword aside, and kicked at his knees, making Yahiko buckle over.   
  
Enishi jumped back, twirled the broomstick front and back, and finished with the broom held straight out at the back of his right arm.   
  
"Had enough?" he challenged.   
  
An angered Yahiko stood up, skipped, and took to the air in a downward thrust. In a split second, his opponent had pushed himself with the broomstick two feet higher, took the stick into both hands, and whacked him solidly at the left shoulder. It sent Yahiko straight to the clean yard floor on his stomach, the sakabatou clanging as it fell near him.   
  
"Now stop bothering me, you insect," Enishi dropped the broom beside him, triumphant.   
  
Kenji and a small group of early kendo students clapped nearby. Kaoru aligned her dropped jaw back in place. Not only did he have Myoujin Yahiko, a powerful force to be reckoned with, begging for mercy. He had him down in five moves. Yahiko entered the dojo with shamed face, grateful that only a few students had seen his humiliation.   
  
But Enishi held his head again, more firmly than before.   
  
How come he knew how to do that? It was on instinct, almost spontaneous. How and when did he learn to fight like that? Why did he learn?   
  
For revenge.......that word again.........but for what?   
  
The boy had called him Yukishiro Enishi as well. So Himura was telling the truth, and that was his name. But who was this man, this Enishi? Competent businessman, powerful fighter, former smuggler, whitehaired psycho? Organization? Bribing? Killing? Why were these words like second nature to him?  
  
"Eni-chan sick again," Kenji tugged at his mother's sleeve, and made her look. Indeed, Enishi had turned very pale, and his forehead was dotted with cold sweat, as he slowly made his way back to the front porch.   
  
In times like this, Enishi remembered, he would look for his sister, and find his answers in her smile.   
  
Where was she now, exactly? What happened to her? If it was true that Himura married his sister, what made him marry this new woman?   
  
Himura............Kamiya............nee-san............Yukishiro...............Enishi...............names were swirling in his head, faster and faster, finding no common thread, but having a common theme. They swirled so fast around him that he could not keep his balance.   
  
"What's wrong, Enishi?" Kaoru asked again.   
  
"Everything," he answered, and blacked out.   
  
  
  
................  
  
Noisy kids and me don't go together well. This chappie got finished, in efforts to relax from a night of trying to control a room full of noisy children.   
  
At the end of the manga, Yahiko and Kenshin had a final stand-off on his fifteenth birthday. Kenshin won, but Yahiko did get a hit. It was enough for Kenshin, and he gave him the sakabatou as a coming-of-age present. This little fight was shown in the SeisouHen. It is also mentioned in the end that Yahiko and Yutarou become Kaoru's assistant teachers at the dojo, Kaoru still being the master.   
  
JML-Yes, you're right and I'm wrong, about okaa-san. ^^ Pronunciation for Shinichi? I'm not sure. As I said, it's the same Shinichi as Kudo Shinichi of Detective Conan.   
  
Bee-Thanks, I guess. Comes with living and breathing RK for at least two years. ^^   
  
BittersweetKandy-Thanks for understanding. Hope you like this chappie!  
  
Dallisse-All of Jinchuu? No, I'm not so bad as that.   
  
Sabbie-I said, I WILL finish How to Impress a Girl 101. With Vandread back on AXN, I just might be inspired enough to get a few chappies done for it. ^^   
  
Beriath-How did Kenji recognize Eni-chan? A natural meeting of minds, you can say. ^^   
  
Iceangel-Sorry about the writer's block. I'm glad you're not mad. Best of luck with the story! Misao? She'll come around after a little while.   
  
Cat-Sorry, I have no mercy for either Ken-san or Eni-chan. But I'm not heartless. This will get better-eventually. ^^  
  
  
  
Hope to see you all again! 


	4. of trees and vegetables

Hiya!  So far I've had requests for Misao (patience, White and Black people, patience!), Yutarou, and a sibling fight. We'll see.  Speaking of Yutarou, I didn't know the manga version was WAY different from the anime version until now!  Check out  , the authoritative and the only Yutarou site.   ^^  Thanks, Sabbie-chan. Your idea got me thinking. And, you got me reading maigo-chan again. Man, I have to go through the whole Jinchuu arc again! Well, I did get myself into this mess after all.  ^^     

Stuff in italics directly taken from maigo-chan's translations of Vol. 24.  

………………………

                An island………..

                A house on top of that island………..my house.  A summer house. 

                A woman………holding a tray. Now I remember. Kamiya.  

                _"What are you doing?"_

She replied. _"Nothing. Only if you're cooking for one you might as well cook for two. You've barely eaten anything since you've been here. I know no one's using the kitchen but me. So eat up!….You can wash your own dishes." _                

                I took up the soup she made.  

                It was awful.    

…………………………

                "Yahiko……..what have I told you about my sword?" 

                "I know……I know…….but, but, but, Kenshin……..!" 

                "No buts, Yahiko!" 

                So Himura Kenshin was home from work already. Which was not a good sign. It meant that he had been out for quite a while, longer than an hour. It had happened to him before, several times in the hospital. Like in this case, because he tried to piece together the complicated puzzle that was his life. 

                Very embarrassing. He found himself in the room Kaoru had said was his during his stay. It meant, the boy who challenged him had gotten into the further humiliation of having to carry him in. He could guess that, judging from the boy's relationship to Kaoru.  He would be in no position to object.  It would not help to improve his relations with him.  Hadn't he had enough experience with businessmen and smugglers and lowlifes to know?………….What was that again? 

His head began to hurt again. He HAD to stop thinking about his past, at least for now. He was causing too much trouble, and he was not one to relish accepting kindness from strangers.  That kind of thing frequently obligated one to do a favor in return. He did not like having such obligations everywhere.  

As it was, he already had too many favors done to him in the hospital.  He had tried to be nice and polite, say please and thank you. He was dependent on these people for his life. He depended on them for information. Only he knew it was all a show for the doctors, a way to make those whitecoats look good in the newspapers and the journals. But as there was nothing else to do about it, he chose to play along.   It was positively exasperating. 

"But, Kenshin, that's Enishi we're talking about. Enishi!" 

The voices came from the next room, separated only by a paper screen.  He placed himself near the division and sat down, his back and aching head leaned on the wooden paneling.   

"Even then, Yahiko! The sakabatou should not be used in cold blood! We've told you countless times that Enishi has changed for the better.  He has a business in Kyoto, a legitimate and prosperous one. He helped Japan and China finish off a good part of the Shanghai mafia." 

Really? He did? He did that?  If he had a business in Kyoto, just who was managing it now?  Wait just a minute…………Shanghai mafia?!  

"Evidently he was caught before completing the entire mission, beat up and left for dead. Fortunately, he was rescued. His memory suffered for it, though." 

Well, that explained a lot, without him having to think about it.  Except that, why were these people not telling him all that outright? 

"I swear, anata, I haven't told him anything!"  

"But the doctor said that the fainting spells probably result from mental overload. I have only given him very little information, so unless you……….." 

"I am telling you, Kenshin, I did not!"

"But why AREN'T we giving the whole truth and nothing but the truth, Kaoru, Kenshin?"  

"Sessha prefers it that he find out for himself." 

Is this redheaded man crazy?!  

"Sessha thinks that if we tell him too much, we might get something wrong, and we might be accused of brainwashing. Besides, there is plenty about him even I do not know. Saitou might actually know more. Unfortunately he's in Hokkaido."  

The eavesdropper sighed. Himura was not going to be much help.  Find out for himself? Why? What was Himura hiding from him?   Well, if Himura wanted him to find out for himself, find out he shall! 

                But just then the paper screen gave out from behind him! Kaoru had opened the division from the other room, and in he tumbled, snowy head first.  The three just looked at him in surprise.

                "H-h-how long have you been there, Enishi?" Kenshin stammered.  

                Of course he was not letting on how much he overheard! "Not long. I was tired of lying down." There, that was not a lie.     He sat down again and rubbed his head. "When is dinner?"

                "Dinner! Oh, NO! I forgot about dinner!" Kaoru panicked. 

                "You've even forgotten about Kenji!" Yahiko reminded. "Where is that little brat, anyway?" 

                In reply, they suddenly heard a loud wailing just outside the house. 

                "KENJI!" 

                "You and Yahiko take care of Kenji," Kaoru ordered, "I'll take care of dinner." 

                Yahiko looked at Kaoru, then at their guest, and asked, "Are you SURE, Kaoru? YOU will take care of dinner?"

                "Just deal with Kenji, will you?!" Kaoru growled and ran off.  

                The men found the boy perched on the lowest branch of a tree, crying his heart out.  His father immediately began to coo at him to come down, and caused him to cry harder.  Yahiko tried to fish him out with the sheathed sakabatou, but Kenji was just slightly out of reach. Kenji only wailed louder. 

                "You're pathetic," the snowhaired guest smirked. 

                "Why don't you help us, you arrogant psycho, instead of calling us names?" Yahiko clenched his teeth. Only Kenshin's arm in front of him prevented the young man from charging again. 

                "But Yahiko does have a point," Kenshin added. "You are the tallest one here, so why don't you help us?"  

                "The boy doesn't need your kind of help," he smugly replied. He looked up. "Oi, Kenji. You got yourself in trouble, get yourself out. Stop relying on others to fix your problems." He turned his back on him.  

                "You're asking too much of a three-year-old!" Kenshin protested. 

                "You're asking too little," Enishi tossed his head and proceeded to the kitchen. 

                Kenshin shrugged his shoulders and Yahiko shook his head. 

But, they noticed Kenji, slowly but surely, climbing down the tree all by himself! 

Eyes almost popped out of sockets, as the little boy happily ran to the house.  

"How did he DO that?" Yahiko asked with open jaw. 

"Sessha does not know, de gozaru," Kenshin replied.  

Dinner was served within the hour. It was eaten in relative peace. Kenji pestered the adults with constant triumphant reminders that "I climb down tree!" Yahiko, in blue gi and white hakama, constantly eyed the whitehaired guest. Enishi primly and silently moved chopsticks from rice bowl to mouth, and occasionally looked back at the young trainer with sharp eyes.  Kenshin also quietly ate his food, sometimes praising the cook, as the guest rolled his eyes.  Kaoru smiled at the praises and raised her nose at the scorns.  

"Peasant food, but it will do," Enishi said at the end. 

"PEASANT food?! Why you ungrateful---" the cook charged, restrained only by her husband. 

"You've improved quite a lot since five years ago, Kamiya," he added as he finished his soup.  "Your miso is edible now."

"Hmph! If I hadn't fed you then, you would have starved on the island!" the cook retorted. 

"What island?" he suddenly looked absolutely clueless, and held his head. 

"Your island!" Yahiko answered.  "A small one in Tokyo Bay. You fought Kenshin there, you brought Kaoru there, don't you remember?" 

"Come again?" 

"Yahiko! What did we just tell you?" Kenshin warned, with an anxious look at Enishi.    

Enishi began to feel a little dizzy, but brushed the disturbing thoughts aside. "I'm fine, Himura, I'm fine." 

"No eat spinach!" Kenji complained to his mommy with a frown. 

"Yes, you will, Kenji!" Kaoru ordered, raising her chopsticks to his mouth, a stalk dangling in them. 

"No eat spinach!" the boy repeated. 

"Pretty please?" Kaoru begged. "Daddy bought it from the market fresh, you have to eat it!" 

"Not eat anything daddy buyed!" 

Kenshin sighed and lowered his head.  "Here we go again…." Yahiko griped.  

"Ahou," Enishi scorned the father. "Are you seriously going to let the boy treat you like dirt?"  

He did not allow him to reply. He quickly walked to where Kenji had his mouth shut like a vice, knelt beside him, and raised his index finger. He spoke in a voice that would send fear to the heart of the innocent.  

"You will listen to your mother. You will do as she says, or you will answer to me. Understood?"  

Kenji nodded. 

"Good. I'll be outside on the front porch. Finish your dinner." And true to his word, he went out of the dining room.  

At any rate, Enishi needed the peace and quiet of the night air to think. He leaned on one of the posts, and admired the clear starry sky. 

Survival of the fittest. That was how he had lived, he thought he remembered. The sooner young Kenji knew that principle, instead of the idealogy of his parents, the better suited he would be for life. He was too spoilt right now, as it was.  Kenji would not last that way on the streets………the streets? He had lived on the streets?  What HAD happened to his sister? 

So he once had his own island, he brought the Kamiya woman there, and for some reason he fought Himura there. If he recalled correctly, he brought Kamiya to the island, partly as bait for Himura should his plans backfire.  But what were those plans again?    

He closed his eyes. Now was not the time to be thinking of the past. More importantly, what was to happen to him in the future? He could not rely on external support forever! Housework was not his idea of living. Trading and selling, that was more of his forte. But what could he sell? The scrawny vegetables in the back yard?  

He recalled the original information fed to him, that he was a businessman in Kyoto under the name Shiroyuki Shinichi.  There must be a way to contact his company's managers, at least get stock for himself in Tokyo, so he could have a little spending money until he knew what to do next.  He did have to pay back the immense hospital bills he must have incurred.  That plan would have to do for now. 

"Eni-chan!" Enishi felt a tugging at his clothes. "Wake up, Eni-chan!" 

He drowsily smiled at his little friend. "Did you finish your spinach?" 

"Hai!" 

"Piggy-back ride?" 

"Yay!"  

Now was not the time to think about the past.  Never mind that the past affected the present. 

It was enough, to deal with the present.    

………………………

I agree with Firuze that it really should be the Shanghai triads or something, but since Watsuki used "mafia" (I did see that in katakana) as the general term for the organization, I'm sticking with that. 

According to the Kenshin Kaden, as of last reports Aoshi got, Saitou was reassigned (or reassigned himself) to Hokkaido. Far, far away from Battousai.  ^^  

JML—Well, once a hothead always a hothead. Besides, when it comes to Kenshin and Kaoru, Yahiko loses just a bit of his rational self.   ^^   

Sabbie—I actually got an old mopstick and swung it around within reasonable limits. And I've seen more than enough RK for my own good.  ^^  Thanks for liking it. 

Cat—Thanks much.  We'll see about your request.    

Dallisse—Thanks much, and no problem! 

Beriath—Durian-top! Now that's the first time I've heard Yahiko called like that! Girlfriend? He has one. Turn over a new leaf? He already did, at least the way I already wrote it for White and Black.  ^^   

CardMistressSakura—Sugoi, you're back! I can't believe it! Arigatou! Domo arigatou gozaimashita! Admit, admit! You like Eni-chan, even a little, ADMIT!!   ^^  

Thanks much for reading!  


	5. of envelopes and uncles

Sorry for the delay. My mind was a complete blank after chapter 4. Even if the story is planned out, I didn't know WHAT I wanted out of Taming a Tiger. Thoughts like, what kind of trouble did I get myself into?! "Unwell" got typed out of my frustration, but it did not help the situation one bit. Much like White and Black's chap 17, this got completed in the patchy way: add something in front, at end, in front, at end, at middle...Again, quote from maigo-chan, volume 19.  
  
........  
  
Where have I been all this time? I was in Shanghai. ..Shanghai, that demon city of the Orient, the whirlpool of riches and greed both East and West. ..For a kid driven out of Japan to survive in Shanghai meant coming out on top of the fiercest competition. ..  
  
This is the only thing I have to thank you for. ..I was always close to death, but I survived. ..My revenge..was the only thing in my heart...  
  
........  
  
"I would like to borrow your records, please?"  
  
"Name of file?"  
  
"Yukishiro, Yukishiro Enishi."  
  
"Classified information. You need special clearance for that, sir."  
  
"Tell your superior I am connected to Himura Kenshin."  
  
"Close enough. Wait here, sir."  
  
The past simply could not be ignored, in order to understand the present.  
  
He had convinced himself for one week that the past was unimportant. However, there were still too many questions left unanswered. The present would only make sense if he remembered what was the past. As Himura would never supply him with the answers he sought, he resolved to look for them himself. In the place he hardly expected to find so much information: the police office. He had learned from Kaoru that Himura was now working as a trainer of new recruits, and that he had significant influence in the precinct. He would use that to his advantage. Himura need not know, and even if he did, he could not stop him.  
  
He was handed one....two...three thick leather envelopes, each tied securely in the middle. "There are two more, sir, wait here," the officer told him as he released the envelopes into his hands.  
  
"Thank you," he acknowledged, as he stared down at the high pile of paperwork. He could not believe that a single person could amass that large a police file. He could not believe that he was that person. And he was not even thirty.  
  
He chose to open the first two envelopes. He had nothing important to do over the next few days; he had time enough and to spare to inspect all five.  
  
A lot of records on the second envelope were in Japanese, but most written material in the first, a short biography on himself, was in Chinese. He read it easily, sometimes even faster than he read the Japanese characters. He did not bother with translations. He had finished reading five documents when he realized the records keeper stared at him intently. He remembered with shock. It was rare for a Japanese person to know Chinese like he did.  
  
"I studied abroad," he explained with a grin. Well, he did, didn't he, in a way?  
  
Police reports of petty robbery, juvenile delinquency, and repeated escapes from custody, aged 12 to 14.  
  
Short records on assassinations he had personally conducted, aged 14 to 17.  
  
Records of sightings of him, aged 17 to 19, as a sub-leader of the Shanghai mafia's larger branches.  
  
Detailed accounts of his leadership of his own branch. Accounts of sold firearms and weapons exchanges, starting from the time he was 20 until he was 24. Records of clients, transactions, sightings, all throughout the mainland and Formosa. The most extensive accounts dated from the time he was 23 and 24, when contact with Tokyo and Kyoto was extensive.  
  
In the second envelope, in Japanese, were records, majority in the hand of one signed Saitou Hajime. Recorded plans to begin regular arms exchanges between Shanghai and Tokyo. Lists of contacts for specialized weapons. Sale records of a steel battleship, fully armed and loaded, used in a failed attack on Kyoto. Recorded as conducted by his henchmen: the bombing of the Akabeko, a popular sukiyaki restaurant; a hit on police Chief Uramura at his residence; an attack on the Maekawa dojo, one closely associated to the Kamiya dojo; and a devastating attack on the Kamiya dojo itself.  
  
Several more documents, discovered by Saitou and his associate: locations of a temporary base in Yokohama, and of a trading post just beyond Tokyo Bay.  
  
"Your island!" he recalled Yahiko's half-surprised words. "A small one in Tokyo Bay. You fought Kenshin there, you brought Kaoru there, don't you remember?"  
  
He began to remember, slowly, a small island. Closed off from entrance except from a small bay. Smaller weapons exchanged in bulk were hidden there for weeks on end, until conditions were right. And yes, he did recall seeing Kamiya and Himura there, some time ago....for...for....something.....  
  
His head began to pound again, so he returned the files and headed for home, promising himself to come back tomorrow.  
  
He returned to the Kamiya dojo, and walked aimlessly toward the main practice area.  
  
He scanned the large open space, and eventually found a collection of swords on a wall. His hands gravitated toward the longest among them. Not as long as the swords he was used to handle, but it had to do for now. Hopefully, a little bodily exercise would get rid of the pain in his head.  
  
He unsheathed the sword, and found that his hands, feet, and body knew exactly what to do. He actually relished the exercise, after more than a month of relatively sedentary life. He swung the sword back and front, his wrist knowing the precise twists and turns required. His arms followed, taking the sword up over his head and low to the floor. Soon his legs bent and kicked in the basic practice movements of the style. He was in his element. He was capable in the long-stick martial arts, but he knew he was not at his best form when he fought Yahiko with a broom. Next to a sturdy pistol, the sword was his weapon of choice.  
  
As his body continued moving in his accustomed way...whatever the school or the style was called, he could not recall right now...his head was busy processing that day's findings.  
  
While the files gave him more information, it also gave him more questions. Not about himself, because many were answered by those leather envelopes. There was just this most important question.  
  
Why?  
  
Why did he do all that? For what?  
  
Why did he go to Shanghai? What drove him, to be a criminal, and one of the best? What made him the man, the boss, the fighter, that he was? What was responsible for that?  
  
The questions slowly formed into a solid shape, into a concrete figure, into a real enemy. Soon his sword was aimed at a certain adversary, his movements directed with anger at a certain opponent. As his thoughts merged with his movements, his wrath assumed the form of a man. A man who had been the object of all his thoughts, all of his movements, all of his actions.  
  
But who, and why?  
  
His mind returned to when we was eleven years old. He was alone in the middle of a battlefield. Corpses surrounded his feet, and the stench of death filled his nose.  
  
Then he saw him.  
  
Him.  
  
He gave him a glare as terrible as of any grown man. They would meet again, and when they did, the man will pay. He WILL pay...for....for... ?  
  
And they did meet again, he and his opponent. Fifteen years later, five years ago from the present. His sword swung faster and faster. To him his enemy had his own hand to a sheathed sword, preparing for his most terrible move. But he knew how to counter it, he had practiced for months to prepare for him. He was not going to fail.  
  
His opponent stood before the door, hazy but visible. In his fury, he drove a direct thrust through him, his long sword aimed to kill.  
  
But the figure suddenly ducked, and elbowed his left side. It forced him to drop the sword and kneel on the dojo floor. He quickly grabbed the sword again to slash at his opponent, but his opponent had moved out of the way behind him. With a singular movement the opponent wrenched the sword out of his hand. He immediately sought the scabbard, resheathed the sword, and returned it to its place.  
  
"I should really ask Kaoru-dono to move those swords to another place..." the figure noted.  
  
Enishi rubbed his eyes. He found the figure of his terrifying wrath replaced by Himura.  
  
"I apologize," he said, but not comprehending the seriousness in Himura's face.  
  
"None of that before Kenji, or Kaoru-dono," was all Kenshin said.  
  
"Of course," he replied.  
  
"Where have you been?" Kenshin asked calmly enough.  
  
"Just around town."  
  
Kenshin raised an eyebrow. "I saw you coming from the precinct this afternoon. What were you doing there?"  
  
He shrugged. "Checking old records. Census, statistics...is there a problem?"  
  
Kenshin shook his head.  
  
"Daddy, dinner ready!" A little voice piped from the door.  
  
Kenshin looked at the boy for a few moments, and looked back at Enishi. He sighed deeply, then smiled and walked toward Kenji. He patted Kenji on the head.  
  
"Be careful of Uncle Enishi, alright, Kenji?"  
  
Kenji looked up at his daddy with a quizzical look. "Uncle? Eni-chan my uncle?" He then smiled. Cool! If he was an uncle, that meant he would visit again even if he left. And he was surely nicer to be with than Uncle Yahiko!  
  
"Exactly what do you mean, the boy must be careful of me?" the aforementioned uncle bristled.  
  
"Uncle Eni-chan my friend!" Kenji seconded the protest.  
  
"So he is, Kenji," Kenshin replied, with a glance at Enishi. "But he's still trying to remember things, Kenji. And I am not sure of what he might suddenly do."  
  
A strong sensation deep in his soul resurfaced for a few crucial seconds. "Be scared, not of what I can do to the boy. But to you." He spoke with clenched fist.  
  
Kenshin only smiled sadly. "If you must, you must. But deal with me alone." He tucked his hair behind his ears. "Come, you are still our guest. Let us have dinner."  
  
Enishi did not move from his place.  
  
"The truth. The truth you are hiding from me. Who are you?"  
  
Kenshin kept his back to him, standing at the door of the dojo.  
  
"I told you before, my name is Himura Kenshin. But what I am to you, only you truly know. I cannot tell you."  
  
He scooped Kenji up into his arms, and walked away.  
  
........  
  
The next chapter will come a little late, maybe after a week. As I have forewarned, I'll be entering medical school, and next week is the first week of classes. I'll get my bearings first about reality, before I get my bearings back on Meiji Japan. ^^  
  
Much of that rigmarole about that first file was fabricated by my head, what could be reasonably assumed from the information the manga provides. (Most especially Vol. 23) Some of this stuff I got out of a documentary I saw on the Chicago and LA mafia of the early 1900's. One guy was already high in the ranks at 21!  
  
My thanks to those who reviewed Unwell: bittersweetKandy, Sabbie, Jason M Lee, bee, tesuka-chan, Cat H, Firuze Khanume, MightyMightyMunson, Angel of Death.  
  
Sabbie-Aoshi was SO cool in the Jinchuu arc, helping everybody and all. Yutarou? Maybe, I'm still thinking how.  
  
Dallisse-Thanks. I figured similar minds work well together. ^^  
  
JML-Yeah, Enishi is one spoilt brat in his time. Thanks!  
  
Cat H-It was deliberate. ^^ Yes, the guy could be sweet in his own way. He did treat Kaoru decent while he was in that island.  
  
The Magician of Black Chaos-Thanks for putting me in the faves list! Unfortunately this story comes with a given that Enishi IS paired. Sorry to disappoint. I hope you still keep reading, though!  
  
CardMistressSakura-OK, we're clear on that. I'm glad you like Eni-chan, too!  
  
BittersweetKandy-You can say, I'm still setting the pace, that's why not much is happening yet. ^^  
  
Battousai no Tenshi-Thanks, thanks. Not easy to do, I can tell you that!  
  
Iceangel-Patience is a virtue! One that neither Misao nor Enishi has, of course, but it's still a virtue. ^^ On second thought, yes, Enishi does have patience in a good load! He did execute Jinchuu with a lot of waiting for the right timing. ^^  
  
Devil-Misao will be OK, don't worry about her. ^^  
  
Thanks again for reading! 


	6. of memories and embraces

Hi! Thanks for waiting. I am sorry for the LONG wait, though. Med school is cool (hey, there are 2 guys in class who can match F4 in looks! And they're pretty smart, too!), but I didn't have the chance to think up the continuation of this story. My mind was in the cellular level all this time, so I had no chance to think for the snow prince. It takes me three days total to fix a chapter, and several hours in each of those days. That is time I no longer have. As you could guess, the studying could adversely affect the writing, or the writing could adversely affect the studying. I'll try to make sure both are OK. But understand, the studying now comes first with me. ^^ (bottom maigo-chan excerpt from vol. 23)  
  
......  
  
A child couldn't survive in Shanghai all alone....why was the boy not content to simply rob the family who adopted him, but had to murder them?  
  
One. It was out of defiance toward the family.  
  
Two. The boy was simply a psycopath.  
  
Three. Since all happiness had been stolen from the boy whose dear sister had been killed by the cruel Hitokiri, he could not bear to see such a happy family.  
  
I hardly need to say that the correct answer is three.  
  
......  
  
"Mommy, Daddy sick," Kenji noted, tugging at his mother's sleeve.  
  
"Hm? What made you say that?" Mommy asked while she washed the dishes.  
  
"Daddy....always sad now," he explained. "Like this." And he sat on the floor with a knee up, and leaned his head on it. He even added a sigh, like he always heard from Daddy.  
  
"Uh-oh...Since when, Kenji-kun?"  
  
"Don't know, Mommy, but many many many days!"  
  
"You haven't noticed, Kaoru?" Uncle Yahiko added. He was sitting by the kitchen table, armed with a pork bun and a glass of water. "Maybe it's because we're getting more students and you've been busy. But he's been sad and serious-like since last week."  
  
"Since he disappeared, right?" Mommy asked.  
  
Uncle Yahiko nodded. Now Kenji remembered, he had not seen Uncle Eni- chan for quite a long time either. It was about the same time Daddy started looking sick all the time.  
  
"Two weeks ago, he left the house early morning, with a small portmanteau," Kenji heard Uncle Yahiko tell a policeman one day. "He did not say where he was going, or when he will be back. Now, he always does that, leave without saying where; he says that it is not our business. But he did not return that night, and not since. We've asked everyone from the hospital director to the lowest bum, but nobody has seen him. Obviously he is not in Tokyo..."  
  
The conversation was getting boring, so Kenji decided to go play outside, and try to cheer up his Daddy.  
  
He knew that in Daddy's eyes he could do nothing wrong. He could pinch him hard and Daddy would only grin. He could cry his eyes out and Daddy would only fish him out of the problem. It was exactly why he liked Uncle Eni- chan more than Daddy. Eni-chan treated him like a big boy, not like a baby! For some reason, Daddy always wanted him to be a little boy he can rescue. Rescuing was a big part of Daddy's life, but Daddy didn't have to rescue him every time!  
  
Mommy was always nice; that's what mommies were supposed to be. But Mommy scolded him sweetly every once in a while when he did wrong. He knew when Mommy was not pleased with him, and he made sure, in his little boy way, that he didn't do it again, when he remembered. Daddy, on the other hand, was hard to place. He did not know if he really pleased his Daddy or not. He actually treated Uncle Yahiko better! It was very annoying. That's why he hated him.  
  
All that notwithstanding, Kenji still felt bad for his Daddy. Daddy wasn't smiling as usual. And when Daddy wasn't smiling, Mommy didn't smile a lot, either, and the whole dojo felt kind of sad as well. It did not feel great to be playing in a sad dojo.  
  
"Why Daddy sad?" Kenji asked him, sitting with a big frown on the front porch.  
  
"Hm?" Daddy looked up, gave Kenji a slight smile, and ruffled his red hair. "I am alright, Kenji. Just worried, that's all."  
  
" 'Bout Uncle Eni-chan?"  
  
"Yes, about Uncle Enishi."  
  
"Daddy miss him, too?"  
  
"Maybe...I am not sure." Daddy took him up onto his lap. "Kenji-kun, there is much you do not know about Uncle Enishi. Even if I told you now, you would not understand....."  
  
"But I do, Kenshin, so at least talk to me," Mommy walked to the porch and sat down beside them, wiping her hands with a towel. She gave Daddy a little peck on the cheek and smiled.  
  
Daddy nodded. "I think I was wrong to keep it from him...he was bound to know eventually....I have a feeling he already does. It was foolish of me, Kaoru-dono, very foolish..."  
  
Mommy put a hand on Daddy's shoulder. "You did what you thought was best," and smiled at him. "It's getting late, anata. Your students will be waiting."  
  
Daddy went to the police office in the mornings. Mommy said he went there because he was teaching people to be good policemen someday. To Kenji, it was alright. He had Mommy all to himself! He could watch happily as Mommy and Uncle Yahiko taught kendo at the dojo, without his annoying Daddy around.  
  
Daddy eventually stood up. "You are right, Kaoru-dono. Thank you. I'm leaving now. Take care of yourselves while I am gone." He walked on and out the gate.  
  
The rest of the morning was very much the same as always. Kenji ran around the dojo, went out, visited the Oguni clinic, peered at the nearby street stalls, returned home and chased a few butterflies.  
  
Everything was quite normal that morning. So Kenji did not know how to explain that afternoon.  
  
-------------------  
  
Kenji knew Daddy had arrived an hour or two ago, and was in the front porch doing the laundry. He continued to play in the backyard, and just went front to get back his ball.  
  
He noticed.  
  
Daddy was standing with a sad face inside the dojo area, and he was talking to somebody. Somebody that looked very familiar.  
  
It was Uncle Eni-chan! He wore new clothes, but Kenji knew his white hair anywhere.  
  
Eni-chan! Eni-chan was back!  
  
But why did Eni-chan look so serious? And why did he look angry at Daddy?  
  
Then he saw Eni-chan run fast and push Daddy hard.  
  
Kenji covered his eyes and face with his hands. This was not happening, was it? "Mommy!! Come quick!" He called.  
  
He peered from behind his hands. It was real. He slowly walked, toward the dojo. From the door, he saw everything.  
  
Eni-chan drove Daddy to the wall and nailed him there with his strong hands. Daddy was coughing and trying to free himself, but Eni-chan's grip was too hard.  
  
Mommy came. "Enishi....we've been...looking for you......where have you been?"  
  
"Where have I been?" Eni-chan talked to Daddy with a voice Kenji had never heard before..a very scary voice. "I've been looking for the answers you refuse to give me. You're too nice a man now, Himura. You think of other people's feelings. You thought you could keep me from the pain of bad memories? You thought you could safely keep the truth from me? I am sorry. In this case, you thought wrong...Battousai."  
  
"Who is Battousai, Mommy?" Kenji asked.  
  
But Mommy looked intently between Daddy and Eni-chan. Her hand in Kenji's was very cool and clammy.  
  
"Kaoru-dono, get out of here, now. I do not want you hurt," Daddy faintly said from the wall.  
  
"Oh, she won't get hurt, your woman," Eni-chan answered him. "Although, I will let her see the hurt YOU deserve for lying to me.."  
  
Eni-chan gave him punch after punch after punch. Unlike Uncle Yahiko, who knew how to fight with his fists, Daddy ducked and dodged but did not fight back well. He had no sword, and he never used any of the swords on the wall. Very soon Daddy was very bloody and very sore, gasping for breath on the floor, his short red hair tangled and droopy over his face.  
  
"It is too late to bring back the past. It is too late to bring back my sister. At least, I will have the satisfaction of dealing with her killer. He will pay double, for hiding the truth from me, and for not accepting the truth that is his!"  
  
"Kenji, go outside, you do not have to see this," Mommy showed him the door.  
  
"Kenji not leaving!" he stomped his foot, and fearfully grabbed his mommy's hand.  
  
Eni-chan walked back a few steps, drew a large and fancy pistol, and pointed it as Daddy's head.  
  
"NO, ENISHI!" Mommy cried.  
  
"And who are you to tell me what to do, woman?" Eni-chan answered. "You are nothing to me. You replaced my sister, and you took away an eternity of misery that should have been Battousai's lot!"  
  
"You do not remember everything yet! Think, Enishi! Think! Remember! Tomoe would not want this!"  
  
"Your husband is the reason my nee-san is dead!"  
  
All this did not make any sense to Kenji. He only knew that something was very wrong with what Eni-chan was saying. Uncle Yahiko tried once to attack, but Eni-chan pointed the pistol at him and stopped him in his tracks. He directed it again at his Daddy.  
  
A second more, and Eni-chan would have fired.  
  
Had not a speck of blue sped by.  
  
The pistol was sent spinning far away from both Eni-chan and his Daddy. The speck of blue stopped near where Eni-chan stood, quite surprised.  
  
Daddy slumped to the floor.  
  
Mommy ran to his side and asked about him. Kenji was soon beside her.  
  
Daddy spoke faintly, his head cradled in Mommy's lap. "Tell him what he needs to know. Tell him I am sorry." His eyes closed.  
  
"KENSHIN!" Mommy screamed. She looked at Eni-chan with the sharpest eyes and biggest frown Kenji ever saw.  
  
Eni-chan saw it, too. He no longer looked scary. He looked scared, very scared. His eyes went back and forth through the room. "N-N-Nee-san, Nee- san is frowning at me..." He saw the door and ran to it.  
  
"You will stop right there, Yukishiro-san," the blue man said quietly, and pointed Eni-chan's pistol at him. Still with panicked eyes, Eni-chan stopped and raised his hands over his head.  
  
"I know you," he said.  
  
"Seta Soujirou desu." Kenji saw now the blue speck to be a man older than Uncle Yahiko, wearing a blue gi and hakama.  
  
"How do you know me?"  
  
The man in blue smiled. "I have received word in Kyoto that you had returned, and you are living here. Your---friends---are quite concerned for you and about your lack of communication. I have come to see exactly how you were. Evidently, it is good that I came."  
  
Mommy interrupted. "You mean, Aoshi----"  
  
"By other sources, yes, Aoshi knows, Kaoru-san. But he has kept it from Misao-san, and so have I," the man answered.  
  
"Who is this Aoshi and Misao, pray tell?" Eni-chan sternly asked.  
  
"We can talk after a while, Yukishiro-san," the blue man smiled again. "If you do not mind, I will go help with Himura-san. I leave you to cool down."  
  
While the kind new man helped Mommy bring Daddy to their bedroom, Kenji stayed behind.  
  
"Get out of here, boy," Eni-chan said to him with his serious look. "He doesn't deserve a boy like you."  
  
Was it possible? Eni-chan did not want to see him?! But...but...wasn't Kenji Eni-chan's friend?  
  
Kenji began to cry.  
  
"A....Ah.....Um.....G-Gomen, Kenji-kun.....Gomen." But Eni-chan didn't come nearer and he didn't pat him on the head. "I.....I....forgot.....I forgot it was you."  
  
"Eni-chan hates me.....hates me like he hates Daddy!" Kenji wailed.  
  
"You do not understand, Kenji-kun....."  
  
"But I'm a big boy now! Tell me!"  
  
Eni-chan softened, and shook his head. "Sorry....Kenji.....even I do not understand everything....I was so angry for so long while I was gone....I did not know half of what I was doing. And now.....and now....nee-san is sad at me again...."  
  
Now it was Eni-chan who was crying. Despite what he did, Kenji felt very sad for him.  
  
He did the only thing he knew how to do. He went to Eni-chan, and gave him a hug.  
  
..........  
  
In my sphere of things, Soujirou does know Enishi, while both were in Kyoto, during the events in the latter part of White and Black. I'll explain further in the next chapter.  
  
I think it's happening to me again, the problem I had in White and Black. If you can help, I'm open to suggestions. AaaaCK! This chapter took so long to construct! Pesky tiger... Really pesky Siberian tiger.... Thank Cat for pestering me often enough. This thing got finished on an anime night, a free evening filled with Scrapped Princess, The Wonderful World (new Wowow stuff, very nice, if only I could understand Japanese well enough ^^), Ayashi no Ceres, Ranma ½ and Gundam Wing. ^^  
  
Wow! I have new readers! Thank you so much!  
  
NightRain-Sorry for the trouble. I hope you like the other fics, too. I am trying hard not to string this story too close to the others, though. Sabbie-Sure! Come by my country in six years and I'll see what I can do. ^^ Cat-Thanks for all the compliments. Misao? In a few more chaps. Beriath-Thanks much! Dallisse-Yes, it is. Have you seen The Majestic? Very nice amnesia story, poor guy. Maeko-Nohara-Arigatou gozaimasu! Jenna- Thanks! Devil-Excellent? Thanks much! It took some hard thinking! CardMistressSakura-Tomoe? We'll see, we'll see. Bee-Thank you! BittersweetKandy-Misao? Wait a while. She'll be coming around. Short chappie? Yeah, a little bit. Again, one of those things that refused to become long. 


	7. of realizations and wasted lives

Hello everybody! Like the chapter before it, this one took a while to complete. Little here and little there, and a lot on a free weekend. We're having psychiatry next semester yet, too bad. I'd really love the chance to analyze Eni-chan and Sou-chan in the clinical way.  
  
..........  
  
Nee-san....  
  
Himura....  
  
Kyoto...  
  
Many things had happened in Kyoto, and I was there for the most part. Why, again? WHY?  
  
.........  
  
Kaoru slapped him hard.  
  
"Ingrate," she scowled at him. "If it weren't for your brother-in- law, you would not even be half the man you are now."  
  
Enishi only held his cheek in surprise. He had presented himself before the lady of the house, to apologize for his conduct. He received a smack.  
  
"Before you accuse him of lying to you, think about it first. For once in your life, think about what another person feels. He could have said you had the wrong house, the first time you came here. He could have denied that he was Himura Kenshin, and you would not be the wiser. He could have turned you over to the police, and you would not know why."  
  
The young lady was right. He lowered his head.  
  
"He didn't tell you anything, because he did not want it to come from him. He did not want to brainwash you into accepting him. He wanted you to accept him, for who he is."  
  
She walked to where her husband lay still, and took up the basin beside it.  
  
"Kenshin does not live in the past. He lives beyond it. When will YOU learn to live beyond the past?"  
  
"But I still can't remember everything about the past."  
  
"I am not asking you to forget about the past. I am asking you to live your life beyond it." And she exited.  
  
He was left alone in the bedroom, standing by the door. He looked at the man he had fought without mercy only an hour earlier. The man lay there on the futon, with one swollen eye and a sore cheek, bandages wrapped over his messy red mop of hair.  
  
And for the life of him, he suddenly could not remember why he fought him.  
  
Anger had driven him again, the way it had driven him many years before. It made him forget himself, remembering only his reason for living: revenge for his sister's death.  
  
From two weeks of searching and researching, he had re-discovered the reasons for his wrath. Tomoe. Beloved sister. Death. By her husband. Hitokiri Battousai. Himura Kenshin. However, to him, all these were only facts on paper, information from hearsay. Much as he tried to relive that horrible day...all he could see in his mind was snow. All that remained was the instinct to avenge, the need to pay back, the urgency to correct the wrong. Why he had to avenge, he no longer recalled. Why she was killed, how she was killed...all gone. Replaced by the emotions that constantly ruled his heart for over ten years. The pure, raw, unbridled thoughts that racked his being.  
  
"He took my sister from me....that's the only important piece of information for me. I do not need to remember how. I do not need to remember why. He killed nee-san, and he has received what he deserved."  
  
"No, he does not deserve it, Yukishiro-san," Seta answered from outside the bedroom.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You are being unfair to Himura-san."  
  
"Seta...Soujirou, correct?" He racked his brain. "Formerly associated with a bandaged man. You bought a warship from me.....How did I have a warship to sell you?" He held his aching head. "Enough of that now. What do you mean, he does not deserve it?" as he pointed to the man lying on the futon.  
  
"I only have second-hand information, Yukishiro-san. But I am made to understand that her death was a mistake."  
  
"A mistake?!" He swooped down on the young man. "How DARE you call it a mistake!"  
  
Seta merely smiled. "Himura had lost a lot of blood and was weakened considerably. Your sister intervened in a fight, too late for Himura to take back...the sword thrust that killed her."  
  
It took two minutes for his brain to process the words.  
  
Suddenly, his mind returned to a snowy day, many, many years ago. A small hut, a large clearing. The smell of perfume, and the smell of blood.  
  
He saw his sister between two fighting men. One man was his employer, the man who promised he could go home with nee-san after he brought Battousai to him. The other, was Battousai himself.  
  
He remembered seeing his sister between them, arms spread wide. Battousai moved erratically, then ran forward in a desperate charge. And, in thrusting at his enemy, ran his sister through.  
  
But now he recalled and he noticed, the shock in Battousai's face, milliseconds after. He saw the horror in Battousai's eyes as reality struck. He saw the honest tears, as his sister smiled and said her final farewell.  
  
Before, he only realized the pain of his own loss of a sister. Now, he felt the man's loss of a wife.  
  
"He...too....did not want .....nee-san...to die?"  
  
It hit him hard.  
  
What this blue-haired smiling young man said....might actually.....be true. He was just too young then to understand.  
  
"Why-----why should I believe you?" he faltered.  
  
Soujirou replied, "Records within the Isshinshishi have proven it."  
  
"You are playing with my head," he accused.  
  
"I am only speaking the truth," the other answered with a serious face.  
  
The truth.  
  
It was the first time his head hurt so much. He had relived that memory over and over in his brain for years. But suddenly, he saw it in a new light. And he suddenly realized. If this murder had been a mistake....his vengeance had also been.....a big mistake. It was the middle of war, and nothing made sense. Fate had not been kind, to all of them. Nobody was to blame.  
  
Years of trying to stay alive. Years of killing, to avoid being killed. Years of lies and deceit. Years dedicated to exacting revenge. Fifteen years of his life had been for nothing.  
  
He might have realized it before, but right now, the realization hit him like lightning.  
  
He pounded his head on the wall, trying to eliminate the pain in his head and his heart. "Who am I? What am I? What have I become?! Somebody, answer me!"  
  
He began to pace the floor absent-mindedly, frantically. "My life had been just one long mistake?! Have I hated someone so long, for no reason? My sister is gone, and there is no one to blame? I have no one to go to, and nowhere to turn!"  
  
Soujirou could only watch the man walk across the bedroom like a caged tiger, back and forth. Frustrated at the world that restricted his movement, at the realization that hindered his hateful energy.  
  
The room spun furiously around him, as glimpses of his lonely life came and went. Pictures of war, pictures of hunger and sickness, pictures of crime and survival, pictures of death and dying. All for a misguided vengeance. Did he lose his past, only to regain it and remember THIS?  
  
The only way out of this life was to end it.  
  
Enishi found his pistol on top of a drawer. To Soujirou's horror, he forgot in his haste to help Himura that he had left it there. But Enishi moved too quickly, and soon he had the pistol loaded and cocked.  
  
There was no more Seta, no more Kamiya, no more Kenji, and no more Himura, to him. Just himself, his wasted life, and his pistol. He pointed the pistol at the side of his forehead.  
  
But he felt a weak hand, slowly but firmly, bring his pistol down. The hand took the pistol from him, and held his own hands. He was too dumbfounded to react.  
  
"Enishi," a man spoke before him. "The way to atone is not by dying, but by living."  
  
It was Himura.  
  
"Don't you want me dead?" he smirked at him.  
  
Himura shook his head.  
  
"I almost killed you; are you out of your mind?"  
  
"Find your own answers. In the meantime, live for others." Himura smiled faintly. From the door, Soujirou nodded.  
  
But Enishi grabbed him from the front of his gi. "Listen, I've had quite enough of your philosophical vagueness." He put him down again, held his head, and paced the floor. "Why can't any of you just give me simple answers? If someone like Seta had come for me ten years ago, I just might have been old enough to understand a terrible mistake, and hopefully I won't be in this mess right now! Now someone wants me dead, because I took the trouble of dismantling an organization I had raised from the ground, in order to get YOU! And now I find out that you are not to blame? Then you tell me to find my own answers? I have no answers of my own! Do you NOT understand?!"  
  
"Who wants you dead, Enishi?" Himura quietly asked, as he sat back on the futon.  
  
"Come again?"  
  
"You just said, someone wants you dead, because you had dismantled an organization. Who wants you dead?"  
  
Enishi spoke with desperation. "How should I know? I don't know anything about an organization! I don't even know who I am anymore! AAAAH!" He gripped his head tightly, and dropped to his elbows and knees. "STOP messing with my head! Tell me the truth! That is all I ask!"  
  
Soujirou knelt beside the prostrate figure, and said gently, "I have told you what he has not said himself. Some, you yourself found out from the police files and from your asking around. The rest of your questions, just might be answered in Kyoto."  
  
"Kyoto? But I have just been to Kyoto!"  
  
"But you didn't talk to the people you needed to talk to, Yukishiro- san," Soujirou replied with a happy smile. "Come back with me to Kyoto. Let me help you find your answers."  
  
The mention of Kyoto only made Enishi's head pound harder. It reminded him, not only of the faraway past, but also of a recent past.....a recent past he remembered absolutely nothing about.  
  
"Find my answers! I have been trying to do that for weeks, all without your help! Stop treating me like a hospital case. Stop taking pity on me. Stop taking advantage of me. Stop. Stop! STOP! STOP----------"  
  
.........  
  
Enishi!  
  
"Nee-san?"  
  
It has been a while, Enishi.  
  
"Is it true, what they said, nee-san? It was all a mistake?"  
  
You were stubborn even then, little brother mine. I have tried, and others have tried, to tell you. Listen to me now, Enishi. I love you as my brother. But I loved him. I never regretted what I did.  
  
"Nee-san..gomen, nee-san...to cause so much pain. To you, to others, to your husband..."  
  
All is forgiven in the end, Enishi. Teach your heart to forgive. Forgive not only Kenshin, but yourself as well. Enishi..  
  
"Yes, nee-san?"  
  
I want you to go back to Kyoto.  
  
"Whatever for?"  
  
There are things I can only show you there. Also, someone is waiting for you to return. Go back to her.  
  
"HER?! But, nee-san, you are the only woman for me!"  
  
Have you forgotten about her, too? Try to remember, Enishi, and go back to her. I will take care of you, like always.  
  
"Her? Who is she, nee-san..nee-san....nee-san? Come back, nee-san!"  
  
.........  
  
"Good morning, Enishi. I hope you are alright now?"  
  
"Nee-san?"  
  
"No, unfortunately. It's Kaoru. Good morning. Breakfast is ready."  
  
"Kaoru? ..Oh, Kamiya, I mean, Himura-san. Morning? But it's only 6 o'clock in the evening..." He rubbed his eyes and confusedly looked at a small tray and a cheerful lady beside him. He scratched his head at a blanket over him and a futon beneath him. He also stared quizzically at the birds in the trees and the fresh sunlight beaming through the window.  
  
"You passed out a little before 6 o'clock last night," Kaoru explained. "You even had a slight fever. Really, you men! First, I had to take care of my husband, then I had to take care of you..."  
  
"Why do you even bother, Kamiya?" he asked despondently.  
  
"You are Kenshin's brother-in-law. You're family." Kaoru quietly answered.  
  
He sighed. "Forgive me for this...I mean, yesterday afternoon..."  
  
"I am sorry myself for what I did," she smiled sadly.  
  
"Apology accepted, and point taken. Enough of that, Himura-san." He took up the glass of water. "I have to get ready to go to Kyoto..."  
  
..........  
  
Sorry for all the angst in this one. I suppose I'm letting out my frustrations about my subjects on Enishi, poor chap. I'm going back to happier times, because the angst is starting to get on my nerves. ^^ Please wait patiently for the next chap, I have two tests coming.  
  
Still so many readers. Thank you all so much for continually supporting my work!  
  
Curls of Serenity ---Thanks for the advice! Cat H-I don't understand a lot of Japanese, either. You're welcome. JML-Yup, I know about the Oedipus complex, thanks. And, didn't you notice all the papers on Saitou's desk in the manga? ^^ Sabbie-Official continuation of RK?! That's a tall order! The diary is in Kyoto. Tips will the considered. CardMistressSakura- Thanks! Bee-I can't forget about the F4 lookalikes; now they actually know I exist, and they talk to me every once in a while. They're nice. ^^ aki- Yipes, and thanks! Amy-Wait a while more for Misao, ok? Maeko-Nohara- Thanks much. You actually like him insane? ^^ Firuze-nee-san-Thanks for the tips. ARgh, what a fine mess I got myself into. bittersweetKandy- Thanks for the tips. Sorry I was starting to annoy you. ^^ MaryAnne-Wow, you read all three! Thanks a lot! 


	8. of trains and fiancees

For those who unfortunately read a mangled version of this, I've re- uploaded this chapter. The computer in the school library that I used to upload this doesn't have Word, so it reformatted the whole document and ruined the quotes and the dashes and the periods. ARGH, and this chapter has a lot of dialogue!!  
  
Wow, thanks for all the support! I'm still OK in med school, don't worry. But I will finish this story. It's something different to think about every once in a while.  
  
People from White and Black, your time has come. ^^ For those of you who are new, understand that this pairing is no longer negotiable, I'm sorry. I will restate the essential parts eventually. CMSakura, sorry, I have to torture you again. ^^  
  
.........  
  
I know that you have a right and a reason to fear me.  
  
But I will make you understand.  
  
There is nothing to fear.  
  
..........  
  
"Uncle Eni-chan mad at Kenji?" Kenji sniffed, as he sat beside his big friend and uncle on the porch. "That's why Eni-chan leaving?"  
  
"Not at all, my little friend, not at all," Enishi answered, as he finished a paper crane. "Uncle Eni-chan is not mad at anybody right now. But he has to go and find out some things in Kyoto."  
  
"When will you be back?"  
  
"I don't know, Kenji. But I promise, I'll come back, and we can play ball again." He gave the boy the crane.  
  
Kenji's mother eventually arrived and handed him a lunch bundle. "Take care of yourself, Enishi." He nodded.  
  
"Take care of yourself, Eni-chan!" Kenji parroted.  
  
Enishi could not help but laugh at the boy's earnest face. "Take care of yourself as well, Kenji-kun," he said as he rumpled his red hair. To his mother, he said, "I've forgotten how it is to be a child, how to look at life without suspicion. Kenji has reminded me. Always be a good mother to that boy. And, tell your husband to be a FATHER!"  
  
"Sure, I'll tell him," Kaoru smiled.  
  
"He's not seeing me off?"  
  
"He has to go to work. And he still feels responsible for your outburst."  
  
"I see." He stood and took up his portmanteau. "I have to go now; Seta is probably waiting already at the station."  
  
"Give my regards to Misao when you get to Kyoto," Kaoru said.  
  
He was too resolute on leaving, that he promised to give her regards, without exactly catching who to give them to.  
  
"Shouldn't you have dyed your hair, Yukishiro-san?" Soujirou asked at the station. "As a precaution?"  
  
Enishi ran his hand through his snow-white locks, tucked them inside a large cap, and chuckled. "I'll get some in Kyoto, if it worries you so much," he answered.  
  
The train ride was uneventful. Seta Soujirou was indeed ready to provide Enishi with any information he needed, but Enishi did not ask for any. He did not know what information to ask the young man, in any case. When he went to Kyoto over the past week, it was to find information about the distant past. He searched for information about the infamous Hitokiri Battousai, and he got it, only to find out that everything he had known had been wrong, all suddenly refuted by a young man's well-chosen words.  
  
Somewhere between stops, he also wondered what his sister meant by going back to a certain woman. So far the only women he could recall with certainty were his sister, Himura Kaoru, and one or two nurses from the hospital who had been extra nice. Vaguely, though, in the cobwebs of his memory, he made out a pretty young lady, who gave him a bright and happy smile.  
  
"Friends?" she asked, as she thrust out her hand.  
  
"Friends," he had taken it in a formal handshake.  
  
WHAT was the name of this friend of his, again?  
  
It was she he was musing about, as the train ground to a halt at the Kyoto station.  
  
Unfortunately, he had lost Seta in the bustle of passengers in and out of the trains. Seta had told him where they were going from the station, but he had not been told on which side of the station that would be. He therefore walked the length of the station, and tried to find his blue-costumed companion.  
  
He still did not find Seta. He therefore decided to take a stroll around the town, hoping he might run into him in the process. Roughly an hour passed, though, and he had no such luck.  
  
But only five minutes of that hour had elapsed, when he noticed a young woman walking behind him, trying to get a good look at his face. From slight glances at her, he saw that she was of short but lithe build. She fumbled at a blue kimono, with obi slightly askew. Her long hair was braided behind her. Her eyes had a determined look to them that he could not ignore. She trailed him with a tenacity that surprised him.  
  
He finally decided to face the woman head on, and find out what she wanted. If it was money, he had some to give. If it was information, he would be of no help but he would say it nicely.  
  
"How may I help you, mademoiselle?" he asked.  
  
She just stood there, and gaped at him.  
  
She did not understand him? But she looked like a native. Strange. Still, he tried to ask the same question in Chinese, French, and English, just to be sure.  
  
"Japanese, Chinese, French, English," the young woman continued to gape. "It IS you."  
  
"I am sorry, but I don't understand-------"  
  
The woman suddenly leapt and embraced him from the neck. "Enishi- san!" she greeted happily.  
  
In his confusion, he did not return her embrace. He tried to place where he had met this woman before, but failed. He knit his brows, desperately trying to remember.  
  
Evidently the woman misinterpreted it as a sign of annoyance. "You're not happy to see me?" she pouted.  
  
"No, I mean, yes, I mean.....I AM happy to see you." Although, he did not know why he should indeed be happy to see her. It just sounded like the proper thing to say at the time.  
  
"Is that any way to greet your fiancee?" she kept her pouting lips with mischievous eyes.  
  
He jumped back and released her. "Your FIANCEE!"  
  
"Please don't tell me you've forgotten your promise!"  
  
"Promise?" He looked at the woman with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"To come back for me, and marry me."  
  
WHAT, in the name of all things good, was this woman saying?! Marry her?! He only met her today, and she was talking of marriage?!? He scratched his snowy head. What in the heavens had he promised her a year ago? And WHO was this woman?!  
  
She suddenly gave him a sly look.  
  
"You're right, we shouldn't be recognized together, Enishi-san," she happily said. "There might be spies around."  
  
"Mademoiselle, what are you talking about?!" It would have been easier to understand if the woman spoke German!  
  
She pulled him into a deserted alley. And pecked him on the cheek.  
  
"You have no IDEA how much I've missed you, Enishi-san! When did you come back?"  
  
He scratched his head. "Um, um, to Kyoto, just today, but I was here last week......come back to Tokyo, since two or three months ago, I think"  
  
"That long? Why didn't you visit, silly boy?" she beamed as she teased.  
  
"Visit? Who?"  
  
"Why, us, of course! And Jiya, and Aoshi-sama, and Okon, and Omasu. Oibore is somewhere around here, too....."  
  
But who were all these people she was talking about?  
  
"Come, you have to come back to the Aoiya with me today! You have to talk to Aoshi-sama again!"  
  
"Aoshi-----sama?"  
  
"Did someone hit you on the head or something, Enishi-san, and you forgot everything?!"  
  
"Well, to tell you honestly, mademoiselle, I----------"  
  
Suddenly the young lady wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head over his silk shirt. He felt a few teardrops through the shirt.  
  
"Last year, while you were away, life has not been the same. I didn't know if you were alive or dead. I had no idea if you were lonely or happy. And now, you're back, you're finally back. I've missed you so much, Enishi."  
  
In spite of himself, in spite of not knowing who she was, he placed his arms over her shoulders, and stroked her braided hair. It was a warm sensation, soothing, and loving. A sensation.....rather familiar to him. But why, he could not recall.  
  
His head had no time to ache before this bundle of youthful energy and love. Something about her interested him. Maybe it was how much she believed in him, that he would do....whatever it was again he had promised. Maybe it was the cheerful and uninhibited way she had welcomed him. Maybe, it was simply her happy smile.  
  
Well, while things did not make sense, and this woman did not give him time to explain, it was best to play along. She could provide a lot of important information, fill in many of the gaps. He could explain himself later, when the young lady was a little, no, a LOT, calmer.  
  
"Tell me about life here, while I was......away," he smiled innocently at the young lady.  
  
She was more than ready to oblige. She took his left hand, and yanked him through the busy Kyoto streets.  
  
.........  
  
Sorry. This chapter refused to be long. I had nothing more to say. If any of you are dreadfully confused from this chapter, be assured that I will fill you in on what you don't understand over the coming chapters. If you don't want to wait, there's White and Black. ^^  
  
In order to be a powerful mafia boss in Shanghai at that time, Enishi must have had command of the major world business languages. At the minimum, he would have known Japanese, several Chinese dialects, French, and English. ^^  
  
::JML:: Yes, it will be, interesting. ^^ ::Firuze-nee-san:: Thanks for the support. Your guesses are correct so far, so any suggestions will be very helpful. ::CMS:: It won't be entirely mushiness; I don't like too much mush either. ^^ ::Cat H:: Enishi would show his brilliance some other way if he had a normal childhood. ::Sabbie:: I can't even believe how people can dare write for RK without seeing everything yet! Better than Meg? We'll see. ::Yuki Natsumi and Maeko Nohara:: Thanks much! Yes, I'll write more. He's not insane as he guards my microwave, either. I put an Enishi poster over my kitchen things, you see. ^^ ::Mary-Anne:: Thanks. I don't think he'll make the same mistakes. ::Mi:: You creep me out, but thanks for the compliments! ::BittersweetKandy:: You're welcome, I'm glad you liked it! 


	9. of inns and boxes

Sorry this took a while to materialize. Chapter 11 is already done, for some reason. But chapter 9 refused to be a chapter for some time, and I was busy. Severe case of lack of inspiration. It had to take a whole large dose of Meteor Garden 2 to get me going again. Watching a handsome Chinese amnesiac CAN get to you, you know, especially if you write an amnesia fic. On to the story.  
  
.........  
  
It's her.  
  
Her hair was raised in a beautiful bun. Her eyes, were as green as precious jade. Her kimono was a blue sky lined with cherry blossoms. And her smile, was for me.  
  
Who is she?  
  
.........  
  
"She's gone, finally," the tall man spoke in relief. Enishi smiled slightly and nodded.  
  
Enishi now found himself inside a decent-sized inn, the Aioya. The young woman with him, the one who claimed to be his fiancée, entered with ease and greeted everyone. She happily presented the snowhaired man to a comrade, a tall and silent man wearing a simple house kimono.  
  
"Shinomori Aoshi," the man introduced himself. He looked afar at Enishi's mademoiselle, making her way with a hop and skip to the kitchen. He was tense beside Enishi, and Enishi felt it.  
  
"Ah, the Aoshi-sama she fondly speaks of," he smirked. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."  
  
"Come this way."  
  
Aoshi led him to a small room deep inside the inn. He ensured that the young lady was nowhere in sight, then closed the screen door behind them.  
  
Within the small room, Enishi finally found his blue companion, smiling gratefully. "I suddenly lost you in the crowd, Yukishiro-san. Where have you been?"  
  
"Mademoiselle is hard to contradict, especially when she is pulling you all over the city," he rolled his eyes as he answered.  
  
The young lady had literally bombarded him with information, all while she walked him up and down and streets and alleys of Kyoto. The inn was getting a paint job, after five years. They had hired a new cook, and he was very good. More customers were coming in every month. A certain Jiya had a haircut, finally. Her Aoshi-sama still had work and support from the local police. Her other friends had bought her things, in preparation for her wedding. Every five minutes, she pointed out a change in this building, a new baby in that house, a new manager for this store. Poor Enishi not only had to piece together vague recollections of Kyoto both then and now; he also had to make sense of everything this woman was saying, a woman he positively did not recall where he met.  
  
As it was, he was quite close to fainting again, partly from exhaustion, and partly from the pain in his head.  
  
"That's Misao, alright," Soujirou nodded.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"So you still don't remember," Aoshi commented. "Let me update you on what you have forgotten. This memory loss will soon get you killed if we do not do anything."  
  
"KILLED?!"  
  
The man did not answer. He opened a drawer, and took out a box. He then presented it before Enishi.  
  
"Look in the box, Yukishiro," Aoshi answered, slightly irritated. "All legitimate police files. I suppose you have seen similar files in Tokyo. As we here are directly involved in your mission, the Kyoto police have been kind enough to provide us with copies."  
  
"Mission...MY mission? I know of the Tokyo files you speak of, but why do I have files in Kyoto? What are you talking about?"  
  
"You ask too many questions." Aoshi snorted and exited the room. "Seta, you talk to him," he ordered from behind the closed screen door, as his shadow disappeared.  
  
"You must forgive Shinomori-san, Yukishiro-san," Soujirou apologized. "You did manage to steal Misao's heart from him. And now you've come back to claim her."  
  
"Sacre bleu, what in the name of heaven--------Steal her heart from him? What is all this, Seta? And why did you not tell me sooner?!" He was quite ready to grab the young man by the neck.  
  
"What's happening in there, you two?" the young lady poked her head in. She had changed into a looser and shorter garment, completely black, and reaching only to her knees.  
  
"He was just getting mad at me, Misao-san," the younger man answered.  
  
"What for?"  
  
"He was about to tell me," the older one replied with a hiss.  
  
The lady shrugged, and left them to continue.  
  
Now Enishi definitely grabbed him by the front of his gi. "Talk, Seta!"  
  
"Calm down, Yukishiro-san!"  
  
Soujirou brushed himself off, and opened the box. He took out a set of files from the top of the box, and showed it to him.  
  
"As Shinomori-san said, these are files of the Kyoto police related to your mission," he began. "I suggest you start reading through them now before I do any more explaining."  
  
Enishi hmphed, and opened the first folder.  
  
Similar to the Tokyo police records, the main files were in Chinese and were then translated into Japanese. Enishi grabbed for the rest of the files, reading directly and easily from the Chinese text. He read with the keen interest.....of one familiar with intelligence reports and spy records.  
  
Enishi was quite astounded at the high level of intelligence the files provided. With the collected information before him, a person could infiltrate the highest ranks of one of the largest criminal triads in Shanghai. Names of heads, number of people below them, even the location of some residences. Having been informed from Tokyo, he was not surprised when he found his own name among the ranks of the second to the highest leaders.  
  
Most of the documents, however, pertained to a branch of the triad concerned with weapons trade, legal and illegal. Unsigned and unidentified documents they all were; the material could not be traced to anyone inside or outside of Japan. Any postal markings gave a misleading or confusing clue about its source. Some of the information was already in Japanese, if the information involved illegal international weapons trade. Shanghai police sometimes provided copies of the information regarding trade within the mainland.  
  
"Impressive, very impressive," Enishi commended. "Systematic work from an operative. Who supplied this information?"  
  
Soujirou replied, "You did."  
  
Enishi's eyes opened just a little wider.  
  
"As you might or might not recall, you were involved in a frameup a year ago," Soujirou explained. "Because of Shinomori Aoshi, the police agreed to take your side, clear your name and arrest those who framed you. But, clearing your name involved your making yourself known to the police as a former smuggler. Therefore, in exchange for not serving prison time, you consented to bring down your triad branch for good. That was your mission when you left here last year. And clearly, you had fulfilled it."  
  
Several copies of Japanese and Chinese newspapers were also included in the box. Issues were dated over the span of the previous year.  
  
From last fall, reports of a successful buy-bust operation, conducted on one of the main ports, disabling a good portion of trade into Hong Kong. Over the winter, a direct elimination operation with numerous arrests had several policemen decorated with new medals. During the spring, an important tip to the police helped them take down an important weapons exchange link between Formosa and Tokyo. By the time summer had arrived, the weapons exchange branch of the triad was almost good as dead.  
  
But that was when all documentation also ceased.  
  
At the bottom of the box was a newspaper clipping from Tokyo.  
  
"The young man was first brought to the national hospital a month ago, more dead than alive from severe loss of blood. He had suffered massive blows to the head and showed signs of prolonged asphyxiation......However, while the man has completely regained his physical capabilities, he continues to suffer from a mental gap. He has full use of language and movement, but he cannot seem to remember anything about his past......The young man is known only as Shinichi, and aged approximately 25 to 30 years......He is most recognized by his snow-white hair...."  
  
This was the first time the aforementioned young man had seen an article on himself. All newspaper articles concerning his case had been hidden from him, for some reason or another. He had heard the story told of how he was discovered, but it was only now that he believed them.  
  
So this was why he was brought here. The two men wanted to remind him about the events of the last months. He was grateful, of course. He did not have to go far for the information he sought. However, he still thought the young lady's actions were rather odd, in the light of the information readily available to her.  
  
"I take it, from the way mademoiselle has been treating me, that no one has told her, but you and Shinomori know about my case?"  
  
"Hai. We did not want to worry her needlessly."  
  
"You are being unfair to mademoiselle."  
  
"Yes, we do realize that, but we don't know what else to do. Misao will panic if she knew, worry herself sick about you, travel all of Japan looking for you."  
  
"I still say you are being unfair. I would rather she knew the truth than be blissfully ignorant."  
  
"Well, then, Yukishiro-san," Seta said, "you tell her."  
  
"No way!" he jumped back.  
  
Soujirou smiled back sweetly. "Do you see what I mean?"  
  
"No, no, that is not it, Seta!" he fumbled. "The woman will only feel sorry for me. I will not have anyone feeling sorry for me. And personally, I will not impose myself on someone I could not remember!"  
  
"So you really could not remember Misao?"  
  
"Give me a reason to remember the young lady, then!"  
  
"Calm down, I will tell you."  
  
Enishi's head was beginning to pound, anyway, so he sat on the floor and prepared to listen.  
  
"Misao is not pulling your leg. You are indeed engaged to her."  
  
Enishi could only hold his head with both hands, and wonder what a fine mess he had gotten himself into.  
  
"You were friends for a year, you loved her, and she learned to love you. After the events concerning the frameup, you and Shinomori-san made her choose, and she chose you. But since you had promised to help the police, you swore that you would come back for her after a year, and marry her. That is how things stand.  
  
"During the time that you were away, Misao continued to stay here at the Aioya, but has kept some distance between herself and Shinomori-san. He is still her Aoshi-sama, and her liveliest conversations are still with him. However, most of the conversation of late has been about you. Quite understandably, it rather pains the okashira to hear it."  
  
Enishi listened with arms akimbo and eyebrows raised. "You must have the wrong man, Seta. I might have indeed conducted those missions in China, as you say. But I would NOT initiate a relationship with a woman! Isn't my sister enough for me?"  
  
But suddenly he remembered his sister's words.  
  
Someone is waiting for you to return. Go back to her. Try to remember, Enishi, and go back to her.  
  
Somewhere in the cobwebs of his mind, he recalled a pretty young lady. She wore a beautiful blue kimono, for the cherry blossom festival. She laughed and smiled, as they walked through the crowded Kyoto streets. They eventually ate dinner.....somewhere, he could not recall.....then.....maybe they stayed at his house. He brought her home in a carriage, and put her to bed.  
  
If only he could remember who the pretty lady was.  
  
How was she connected to him, this pretty lady in his head, and the feisty young lady he had met? Were they one and the same? Did she just look uncannily similar? Was it possible that everyone related to the woman mistook him for someone else? Was it probable that they were taking advantage of his amnesia, to brainwash him?  
  
The okashira's dark shadow loomed behind the screen door. "Are you done?"  
  
"Hai, Shinomori-san, more or less," Soujirou answered for them.  
  
"Good. You will hear from me should your presence be required again," Aoshi said to Enishi, and began to walk away.  
  
"A....Shinomori-san..." Enishi interrupted.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"About mademoiselle .....if what Seta says is true, you should have courted her, you know."  
  
The okashira stopped and just stood with his back to the snowhaired man. After a long silence, he faced Enishi, and walked to where he stood. Then the men stood eye to eye, Aoshi's searching for something in the turquoise eyes, Enishi's wondering what they were. The man's face was at the iciest Enishi had seen so far, and he did not know what to make of it. Finally, without saying a word, Shinomori Aoshi walked away, slowly and stately.  
  
Clearly, Shinomori still admired the mademoiselle, Enishi mused. Why then was the young woman imposing herself on Enishi, then? And why did the man not make a move on the young lady? He definitely did not understand.  
  
"By the way, Yukishiro-san, have you thought about where you will stay for the night?" Soujirou interrupted his thoughts as they exited the Aoiya.  
  
"What?"  
  
Soujirou grinned, and tried again. "Where will you sleep tonight?"  
  
In reply, Enishi scratched his snowy head. He looked at Soujirou as if the question were unimportant, but suddenly WAS important.  
  
The younger man shook his head good-naturedly. "You can share my room here for tonight...."  
  
"HERE?!"  
  
"They will be having dinner shortly," Soujirou continued. "They make a good yakiudon here, so I suggest you take me on the offer."  
  
"He doesn't have to share a room with you, Sou-chan!" the young lady passed by and overheard the last of the conversation. She came near to Enishi, and hooked him onto an arm. "He's staying with me! He has to keep me up tonight with all the stories about China!"  
  
"But, mademoiselle......"  
  
"No buts, good sir!" she answered happily.  
  
"But......there's nothing I can tell you!" he replied with supreme dread.  
  
Soujirou came close and whispered into his ear. "You've read the files, right, Yukishiro-san? Work with what you DO know right now. Remember, she knows most of what is in that box, but not all."  
  
Enishi nodded.  
  
Soujirou then said aloud, "Well, then, it's settled, Misao-san! Enjoy your evening!"  
  
Misao tightened her hold on her fiancée's arm.  
  
"Seta, you traitor...." Enishi murmured under his breath.  
  
...........  
  
EGAD! Watson, no game is afoot, egad! Lack of inspiration, not a good thing, not good!! ^^ 


	10. of wine and water

Hiya guys! Sorry for the delay. First, life is 2 Fast 2 Furious for me. ^^ (I haven't seen the movie). Before you realize, a month has passed by without me having enough inspiration for a new chappie. And, any inspiration I had disappeared with my computer's hard drive, which died on me. I actually had one and a half chapters already done..argh. And, I've been in and out of a depression phase while I was gone. And that is not because of Taming a Tiger and the hard drive that died. I haven't been completely absent, though. I produced two songfics for Gundam Wing and one angsty songfic for RK during the interval, I hope you'd look them up as well. Anyways, here's the next chappie. Finished in two days after a month hiatus.  
  
...........  
  
"Enishi-san?"  
  
The snowhaired guest was thinking hard about what to say to the young lady beside him. She was eagerly waiting for a story of some sort. A story he did not know how to produce. It was true, he had read through the files, but they were files that she had probably seen herself.  
  
"Enishi-san?"  
  
He could not simply fabricate a story; she looked too smart and too informed for that. He might start a story, only to find he had wrongly pieced together his information. He was quite used to deceiving people, but he did not want to deceive the young lady.  
  
"Enishi-san!" she called a little louder.  
  
"What?" he snapped back.  
  
"You've had that blind stare at me for such a long time, you know, Enishi-san?"  
  
He shrugged it off, but sighed afterward. He still did not have a story for her. He looked at her jade eyes intently for a few moments. They looked very eager. More frightening for him, they seemed to beg him for reasons to make her even more proud of him than before. For being that ex- mafia boss he had read about in the files, going undercover? But what exactly had he done there that he could be proud of?  
  
Maybe if he told her the truth, she might understand and help him out. He found strength in her eyes, and took a deep breath. "Mademoiselle----"  
  
"It's Misao, Enishi-san!" she interrupted. "What's the matter with calling me Misao? It feels rather weird being called something foreign."  
  
That was true, but somehow it did not feel right, yet, to him, to call her by her name. What if she just mistook him for someone else? What if HE mistook her for someone else? "Mademoiselle, I do have to tell you......I am sorry, but I cannot really remember you. They say, I was involved in an accident. I hit my head, I think, and I can't remember everything yet."  
  
The young lady only grinned. "You must REALLY be tired from today, you're beginning to rant on me!" She patted her hands. "You can't say I didn't try, anyway. I'll let you get some sleep now; we can talk more tomorrow. Do you want to visit the temple tomorrow? Or the cemetery? Of course you want to see your sister's grave again?"  
  
He absentmindedly opted for the temple. He wanted to avoid the crowds of Kyoto. He wanted to avoid the confusion of the world around him, to clear the confusion in his head.  
  
She nodded, greeted him good night, and lay herself on a futon quite beside his.  
  
When he found himself stuck in this situation, he thought it was a joke, and she would not follow through with staying with him for the night. Evidently, she was dead serious. Now, a woman was asleep almost beside him, short of being in the same bed with him.  
  
Still, he found himself drawn to her. His eyes went through the curves of her body, as she slept on her side. His ears welcomed her slow and peaceful breathing. It took all of his decorum to keep his hands away from her long flowing hair. He had been in this situation before; but for the life of him, he was not sure if it was with her or with some other woman.  
  
Who WAS this woman?!  
  
His decency and slight fear of women got the better of him. He left the bedroom, and began to pace the garden of the inn. Eventually, he grabbed a coat and walked out to the deserted streets.  
  
He walked to a few places he felt familiar with.  
  
He first ended up at a large warehouse in the city. By reading the signs, he discovered that the warehouse was a factory, specializing in producing various metal parts. He found himself remembering that the north wing of the building contained the quality control section, the south wing the major manufacturing area, and the west wing his former managerial office. Probably still was his managerial office-he had to talk to the president of the company over the coming days, he promised himself.  
  
How did he lose his position in the building again? Oh, yes. He did not resign, nor was he fired. One of his childhood acquaintances was his business partner, the one who actually ran the everyday work of the company. He remembered. He said he would be a spy for the government, and try to eliminate his branch of the Shanghai mafia. As a cover, he would also expand the metalworks company's distribution to also include exports to China.  
  
As it was, the metalworks factory was a flourishing business when he left, a year ago by his vague estimate. From the looks of things, the business fared well even while he was gone. Two new small buildings were added to the complex. The buildings had a new coat of paint. He breathed a sigh of relief. Soon he would have a more stable source of income, instead of depending on others.  
  
He walked on, in and out of the city streets. He remembered this street and that house, buildings he had seen as a boy. Buildings that reminded him of his childhood, as a fiery lad, angrily searching for the sister that suddenly left him. Streets and alleys covered with blood when he was much younger, some of that blood spilled by the man who supposedly killed his sister.  
  
Then he remembered the events of the last few days. He had a pistol pointed at his long-time enemy. He was quite ready to kill him; and he would have been successful had not Seta intervened. Only to discover, hours later, that his hatred had been a long-standing mistake.  
  
The blood in the surroundings in his head, and the guilt in his hands, made him walk faster and faster, back to the Aioya. But he could not go back to the young lady. He did not understand what she saw in him. He was a criminal. A converted one, but a criminal all the same. Now that he remembered it all again, he knew he had a past he would rather forget and would rather not tell her.  
  
He knocked at the kitchen of the Aioya.  
  
"Sir, you might be Misao's friend, but it's an hour past midnight!" the girl who answered him complained.  
  
"Just get me a bottle of sake and I'll stop bothering you," he ordered.  
  
The girl got it for him. He snatched a spare cup from one of the tables, walked out of the dining area and back into the garden.  
  
He never liked sake much, but he had learned that it was safer than opium as a means of escape. And, computing total expenses, importing and delivering it into Shanghai was actually cheaper than feeding a drug habit. He made himself comfortable, sat where he had a full view of the garden, and took a first quick gulp.  
  
"Couldn't sleep?" Shinomori interrupted him from behind.  
  
"You could say that," he smirked back, and offered the bottle.  
  
Shinomori declined with a wave of a hand. "I leave you to your problems. Good night." And he reentered the inn.  
  
"Hey, you really should not have let her wait for me for a whole year, as she claims she has done," Enishi shook his head at himself, as he took another gulp. "You're a better man for that feisty lady."  
  
"We already discussed this last year, Yukishiro. She decided. I respect her wishes. Now, good night." Shinomori emphasized his greeting, and left him.  
  
"Suit yourself," he murmured, and poured himself another cup, as he drowned his memories of the bewildering past and present.  
  
"Enishi-san...good morning, sleepyhead!" the young lady greeted him a few hours later. She shook him awake, leaned on a post of the garden veranda.  
  
"Don't bother me, whoever you are," he grumbled. He had not downed a whole bottle of any alcoholic beverage for at least half a year. It sufficiently halted his confused memories, but now it gave him a horrible headache.  
  
"We're going up to that temple, remember?" she kept shaking him.  
  
"Sure, sure...now leave me alone," he murmured.  
  
He had to recall quickly how he knew this woman. Before this infatuation of hers got any worse than it already was. She was all over him, and he did not know why. This was serious. If she was making a mistake, he had to be sure, he had to tell her, he had to get out of her life as soon as possible and leave her with the other fellow.  
  
But in the meantime, he would favor her. He smoothed out his unruly snowy peaks and found his way to the bath house.  
  
The trip to the little temple was uneventful. It was a regular sunny summer day. The pair was rather silent, though. The young lady thought he just wanted to admire the Kyoto scenery. He did not even notice the trees. He scanned through the files in his head, but still the pretty face beside him would not register.  
  
She dropped him off at the main gate, and promised to come back for him. She had to return to the Aioya and help cook for lunch.  
  
He was finally alone.  
  
He walked around, and eventually found the main temple. He was aware that his sister's journal was kept in the place somewhere, but he did not want to bother with it just right now. He knew its contents by heart; by now he had remembered majority of it. He contented himself with just sitting in the main worship area, and to think things through again.  
  
"Been a while since you've been here last, young man," an old man greeted from behind.  
  
He looked around to see who addressed him. A man with a long beard, who wore very shabby clothes and broken spectacles. The man tried to look somewhat neat, but it was clear it had been some time since he had last bathed. In his hands he held a large and worn straw hat.  
  
"Not much changed while you were away," the old man continued, and sat beside him. "Her spirit still lingers around here, as I suppose it lingers in you. She held no grudges against anyone, what a heart she had. Maybe she held a grudge on one man, but she forgave him in the end."  
  
"Are you still talking to me?" Enishi asked, doubting the man's sanity.  
  
"In case you've forgotten, the name's Oibore now, and we met a few years back. At least you've been in good places since that time." The old man smiled broadly at him. "How is the redhaired swordsman now?"  
  
"Oh, Himura?" he entered the conversation quite naturally. "Has a wife and a little boy. He still lives in Tokyo. He has a good life there, by all accounts."  
  
"So you have met him recently, I see. Have you forgiven him?"  
  
"For nee-san? I....am....not sure," he replied. "Wait a minute, why am I talking to you like this?"  
  
"Have you forgiven yourself?" the man ignored the question.  
  
"Myself?" What kind of a question was this, coming from a man who looked like a beggar?  
  
"Before you can truly forgive him, you have to forgive yourself."  
  
"But-----"  
  
"The past is past. There is nothing we can do to change it. What we can change is what we now think of ourselves and others, based on what we have learned from the past." The old man gave him a knowing look, and grew silent.  
  
Enishi was silent himself. He was not sure why the man knew what he knew about him, but he was right. He was certain, he had heard this line of thinking before. He had met this man before, back when he was at his lowest in life, shortly after Himura won over him. The old man managed to get through to him when others could not, with the way he knew things but did not explain why he knew them.  
  
"Well, son, I think I'm disturbing your meditation," the man called Oibore stood up to leave. "If you'd like to talk more, you know where to find me, just at the outskirts of town. You know me; I'm all talk, no personal action. But I do make a good consulting service, don't I?" he grinned.  
  
Enishi could not help but smile at this. The old man was always rather eccentric. He let him take his leave.  
  
Then he remembered suddenly.  
  
"Father..." He called out to the old man.  
  
The old man stopped in his tracks.  
  
"Take care of yourself."  
  
Oibore smiled warmly at Enishi. "Sure thing." He tipped his hat at him, and went on his way.  
  
You have to forgive yourself.  
  
The words rang in his head, long after the old man had left. But he had done too many things in his life. He could not forgive himself. He could not even forgive himself for the present. He had hurt Himura, he had hurt Kamiya by hurting Himura. And if he did not settle things in his brain, he could not forgive himself for hurting the young lady who kept tailing him.  
  
The afternoon wore on, and the summer showers began to pour. First slowly, in trickles, then harder and faster, in furious sheets. He walked down the many steps of the temple slowly and carefully, not caring that he had no umbrella or overcoat.  
  
By then, he was so immersed in his thoughts that he had forgotten about the young lady who promised to fetch him. He walked back to town by himself, the rain falling faster and harder, soaking his Western shirt and trousers. He passed a small liquor store, and bought a small bottle of the cheapest wine. He downed half, then continued walking. Such were the thoughts that tormented him, worse than all the financial situations he had ever encountered, that he desperately sought a way out from them.  
  
Things, events, people and motives mixed in his head. Rapid and random thoughts filled his brain one after another, demanding attention and supremacy. His body no longer felt the rain pouring around him. His feet only instinctively knew the way back to the Aioya; he was no longer directing their steps. His feet just continued walking, until he was back in front of the familiar white signboard. He entered the inn, went up the stairs, and back into the room the young lady placed him in last night. He finished off the small wine bottle and hit it in the drawer. The new alcohol in his system only worsened the spinning of the room around him.  
  
His head pounded hard, so hard that controlling the beats with his hands only made them worse. Faces came back and forth. Sister. Father. Battousai. Kamiya. Seta. Shinomori. Wu. Business associates. Mafia bosses. Enemies. Allies. The pretty young lady of his thoughts. The cheerful girl beside him last night. It was all turning into one confusing mess.  
  
Maybe it would all stop if he closed his eyes for a few moments and thought things through logically, he reasoned. He would first arrange all these people in his head in chronological order. Then he would try to make sense of it all.  
  
Thus, he leaned his back to the wall beside the paper door. And closed his eyes.  
  
All went dark and blank.  
  
............  
  
Misao folded her umbrella and shook off the rainwater. Her face showed much concern as she entered the inn.  
  
She addressed the cooks in the kitchen. "Hey, have you seen Enishi- san? He left the temple without me! I said I'd fetch him! Where could he have gone in this downpour?"  
  
"Oh, your white-haired friend?" Omasu replied as she chopped. "He's been back for a while, sopping wet. He went to his room, I think, he hasn't come down yet."  
  
"Thanks," Misao said, and rushed up the stairs.  
  
She rapped on the door of his room. "Silly Enishi-san, why didn't you wait for me? I said I was coming back for you!"  
  
No sarcastic or clueless reply.  
  
"Oi, Enishi-san! You do have to explain yourself eventually! Watch out, I'm coming in!"  
  
Still nothing. Her tone changed from teasing to anxious. "Are you mad at me or something, Enishi-san? I'd rather you tell me than keep it to yourself."  
  
When even this did not get a reply from the inside, she opened the screen door herself. "Talk to me, please ---- Enishi ---- san?"  
  
From just inside the screening, she found her white-haired friend slumped on the floor, eyes closed, clothes and hair completely soaked through. His head and hands were hot to the touch.  
  
"Omasu! Get the doctor! Quick!"  
  
............  
  
Gimme a break, guys. Mafia bosses had better know their liquor, more or less.  
  
Responses:  
  
General to everybody: I've seen my unnatural share of amnesiacs in soaps and anime over the last few months that I was making this crazy story. ^^ Also, over the first semester I've managed to meet another classmate who shares my admiration for Enishi, and has read my fics. It's a small world.  
  
CMS-Yeah, no change. Sorry. ^^  
  
Firuze-nee-san-I'll think about it more rationally, about adding the Verne stuff, next chappie. Adventure? Coming, coming. You know I set up a LONG introduction. ^^  
  
Jbramx2-Thanks for putting me in the faves list. Thanks for the compliments.  
  
Sabbie-Sorry I took a while. Hope you're still doing well in school! I'll get back to the Vandread story over the sem break. I don't know what to do to BC yet, hihi. ^^  
  
Mary Ann-Really? Thanks! I hope you liked this chappie.  
  
Maeko-Nohara and Keisuke - The French-ness will only last for a little while longer. Actually posters are cheaper than manga in my place in the world. They're not exactly from Japan, but as long as I have Eni-chan guarding my refrigerator I don't care. ^^ Thanks for the comments!  
  
JML-Hai. No more Sherlock. ^^ I really made Kenji call him "Eni-chan", meaning he's a friend more than a relative. Thanks for the Mandarin stuff.  
  
Thanks for still reading my work, you guys! I'll see you all soon, hopefully. 


	11. of sisters and friends

Hiya! This chapter is the result of too much Evangelion in the brain. 26 episodes of Evangelion in 2 separate days.  End of Evangelion at 2 in the morning. Yeesh.   At any rate, Eva or no Eva, this chapter was eventually coming. Sorry, folks. I do have a weird way of taming a tiger.  I think Firuze's way is better (remembering her in full tamer costume with whip and chair……..).  ^^   

……………………………………….  

                "I owe you for helping out, Seta-san," Misao smiled at him faintly, tired and anxious.  She and the blue swordsman stood just outside the door of Enishi's room.  The wanderer had come as soon as he heard, and helped the unconscious patient out of his wet clothes and into bed.  

"It's nothing, Misao-san," Soujirou smiled in turn. "Any friend of yours is mine as well. Poor Yukishiro-san. Of all the people in Japan to have amnesia…….." 

" 'Amnesia'?" Misao asked. "What is that? And why does Enishi-san have it?"  

"It's a new, foreign medical word."  Soujirou's face lost the plastered grin. "Sit down, Misao-san, I have something to tell you…………"  

When he finished, Misao merely looked straight before her.  "So what he said was true. He really does not remember me." 

"For the time being, yes." 

"Anything I can do about it?"  

"Give him time, he will."   

She stood up and went into the room again. She sat in the futon, beside where he lay, deathly still.  

She took up his left hand and held it close to her cheek. "I don't know everything about your past. I actually think you might have wanted to forget them all instead of having to remember them again. Just remember this, my white-haired, pompous, exasperating, infuriating, arrogant, conceited baka. If you will ever need someone to talk to, I will just be here. Before anything else, I am your friend."   

Probably, it was the warmth she gave to his hand. But he slowly and drowsily opened his eyes, and smiled.  

"Enishi," she smiled back. She continued to hold his hand in hers.  

Yet he merely stared at her eyes and face.  

"Nee-san."   

He then closed his eyes in sleep, and turned his head away.  

As she cried.  

……………………

It was darkness, just darkness. Immense nothingness. He was content staying in that darkness, that nothingness. He was nobody to no one. He was not someone another person had said he was. He was not a person someone else thought he was. He was just……..himself.  

_Enishi_!__

That was right. That was his name. Yukishiro Enishi. And the voice, was his sister's. 

As he lay in the midst of the vast darkness, he saw his sister a short distance away from him, looking down. She was beautiful, as always, wearing a cream-colored kimono, and her hair falling to her shoulders. She smiled. She even held his hand. He smiled in turn.  

"Nee-san."   

But he looked away from her, and allowed himself to drift farther into the vast darkness, deeper into the oblivion of his making. He did not want to remember the past, or the present. He just wanted to stay like this. 

And it was so for a long time. No thoughts, no memories, no ghosts, no time, no space. Quiet nothingness.  Whether it was day or night, he did not know and did not care. 

He was therefore quite surprised to see her again. The pretty young lady. The one he could not properly remember. 

She stood there, the way she looked, on the day………..on the day…………of the festival.  Her hair in a bun, her face painted slightly to accent her cheeks. She wore a special kimono then, one he could not easily forget.  When she saw him, she gave a special smile, wider than his sister's, and more tender. 

They first met………..they met………….in Tokyo. Well, strictly speaking, they had first seen each other when he delivered his vengeance on his brother-in-law, but he had not noticed her then. They really met each other in Tokyo a year or so after that. 

To him, she was a weasel. To her, he was a white-haired annoyance. 

He was already a proper businessman then, and he came to Tokyo on business. But the weasel kept running into him in the market. It was getting on his nerves. Thus, on a whim, and to finally get rid of her, he invited her for lunch, in the classiest restaurant in the city. 

However, as she talked and talked and talked, he found herself drawn to her. She was unlike any woman he had met before. She was open even with him, a former enemy. She did not keep secrets from anybody about herself. He invited her again for dinner. He told her he wanted to know more about her, and despite her misgivings, she agreed. She agreed to be his friend. 

A unique friend she became. Over the succeeding few months, both took the other into their world. She took him to long strolls in the woods, to her favorite haunts and hideaways. He introduced her to the world of books. He even went through the bother of reading a French book to her, translating along the way. 

So it was, that during those few months, he learned to love her. 

She did not know what to make of it. She was supposed to be almost married to the other man………..the okashira. But in the course of time, even she learned to admire the unpredictable businessman. Her resolve for the okashira faltered.  The okashira, of course, noticed, and tried to separate the two inconspicuously. He went with her everywhere for almost a month.  

When they finally met each other again, independent of the okashira, it was during the festival. She just stood there, in a new kimono, with hair upraised and face covered in delicate rouge. He, too, stopped her in her tracks, dressed in full Japanese attire, worlds away from his usual shirt and slacks. He took her hand, and she followed through the Kyoto streets, and into his house. He tried to convince her to come with him to Paris, but she declined. He considered taking advantage of the situation, but her faith in him held him back. A gentleman does not run away from his problems, and she considered him a gentleman.  

Soon after, he was involved in a frameup. The only person he could trust to retrieve evidence of his innocence was her. Against the wishes of the Oni, she went for him, and almost got killed in the process. Nevertheless, she returned with the data he needed, just in time to save his own life, suffocated from inside a burning building.  

This situation led to a conundrum for the young lady. Should she say yes to this new friend and more, or should she forget it all and stay with a reliable man? Both options had advantages and disadvantages, losses and gains. Both men lay them all before her, and left her to choose. 

She chose white. 

Unfortunately, his decision to help eradicate his weapons smuggling branch meant that he had to leave her behind, for her own safety. He left her with her friends and the okashira, with a promise to return. 

Now he was looking at her again, the pretty young lady, separated by a short distance in the vast nothingness. This time, it was she who held out a hand, asking him to come with her. Come, away from this place. Come back to me.  

I can't, he told her. I can't. I don't deserve you. I should not be marrying you. You look for a gentleman. I am not that man. So leave me, please. Leave me here. 

He plunged himself deeper into the darkness. Away from her, away from memories of her.  

Her sister spoke again.  

_Why are you running away, Enishi?_

She had followed him, to wherever. 

_Why are you running from yourself, little brother mine?_

Because I never liked myself, nee-san, that's why. The person I used to be, the person I have become. Every new revelation just gives me a new reason to hate myself. So it is better this way. I am not someone's boss, someone's brother-in-law, someone's target, someone's fiancée. I am where no one can touch me, and hurt me again, and take advantage of me again. You are here with me, and that is all I need.  

_You are also in a place where no one can care for you. _

Aren't you enough, nee-san? 

_I only live in your mind, Enishi. I cannot help you in the real world. But there are people around you who want to help you, and can help you better than I can. Let us take as an example your friend, the one beside you right now. _

She took his hand, and brought him to the surface of his darkness. 

From almost beside him, just audible outside the vast darkness, he heard voices talking.  

"It's been two days, Seta-san," he heard his mademoiselle's voice. "The only way we know he's alive is that he's breathing. The last response I got was two days ago, and then he called for his nee-san." 

"And the fever?" a male voice asked near her. 

"He only had the fever one day, that night he came home wet to the core. But since I found him, and that small thing, there has been no response from him. Absolutely nothing. All told, three days he has been like this. It's like he has shut himself out from the world."  

That was exactly what he did. But now that he was hearing it from her, he started to regret it. 

He heard her shouting and crying simultaneously, very close to him. "Listen, you….you………STUPID loner! I know you can hear me! Stop keeping your thoughts to yourself! I'm supposed to be your friend! For crying out loud, I'm supposed to be your future wife! So talk to me! Do you hear, Enishi?"  

"That's enough, Misao-san," the male voice spoke again between sounds of the lady's sobs. "That's enough." 

The voices slowly died down, and ceased. 

Stop it, nee-san. I've already disappointed you. Now I'm making a woman cry. I don't want any of this. Take me back. Let me die, nee-san. I'll be with you, then. 

_She is worried about you, Enishi. She cares about you, and she can do more for you. I know you have had much on your mind lately. Why don't you tell her about them? You have to return to her. She IS your friend after all, and more than your friend. _

But who is 'she', nee-san?

_Come. I will help you remember. _

Then she disappeared, his nee-san, into the darkness.

He opened his eyes, and looked around for his sister. He saw the stars twinkling through the window near his futon. He was……..yes, he was still in the Aioya, the inn of the mademoiselle. But no sign of his nee-san.  

Instead, he found the young lady, fast asleep near him. Her hair was unbraided and surrounded her face. She tossed and turned in her sleep, troubled about something. He smiled in sympathy; he had an idea how she felt. Poor young lady. She had been always good to him these past few days, even if he did not understand why. It was quite time he returned the favor, in some small way. 

He got up, and slowly made his way toward her. He hushed her as he quietly stroked her long hair. He then lifted her delicately and positioned her properly in her futon. Finally, he covered her again with the blanket. Satisfied, he smiled one more time at her, and returned to his place. 

It dawned on him. He had done this before.  

To the same woman.  

It felt exactly the same. Her hair, her clothes, her body. It was the same woman. It was her. 

It was during the festival when he last carried her. He had brought her to his place for dinner, just he and her. She had been at her loveliest then, he could not help but invite her for dinner. She had fallen asleep in the mansion………where he used to live. He did not want to wake her, so he had carried her, from the library, down the stairs, into his carriage, and brought her home.  

The weasel, the mademoiselle, the bubbly girl, the lovely woman, were one and the same.  

Yes, he did remember her. Finally he remembered her. 

She was the primary reason he had remained alive, in spite of being found half-dead in the sea, in spite of all the torture the hospital imposed on him. She was the reason that bore him on, to see his mission to completion. He promised to come back for her. He had to stay alive, through everything, to come back to her. It was finally time to keep his promise.  

He took up one of her hands, and kissed it. "Thank you for believing in me. I love you, more than ever."  He kept holding on to the hand, as he closed his eyes again. 

Now, she was part of his dreams.  The world in his head now had color and life, now that she was there to remove the darkness and nothingness. But unlike before, he wanted to get out of this dream state soon, and return to reality. He wanted to be with his friend, now his fiancée, in person. He wanted to feel her presence beside him, warming and changing him. 

_Will you be alright now, dearest?_

I guess, nee-san. Thank you.  

_Be careful, Enishi. Trust your friends with your life, but watch out for your enemies. _

Of course.  

_Give my regards to Kenshin. Try to get along with him, alright? Let him help you. _

I will try, nee-san. 

With that, he greeted the new day.  

……………………………………

                The birds were chirping outside the window when she awoke. It was already the middle of the summer morning!

How long had she been asleep? She promised that she would not sleep until she was sure he was fine.  Baka! Baka! She kept reproving herself.  

But as she rubbed the sleep from off her eyes, she made out the figure on the futon, sitting up in bed.  

"Weasel."    

"NOBODY in Japan calls me a ------ weasel?" 

"I do apologize for all the trouble I have caused you. How have you been, little weasel?" He ended with a smirk.   

Her jaw dropped, then her arms instinctively went for his neck, and her hands to rumple his snowy hair.  

"I like this new white-haired baka. He knows how to say sorry!" She teased.  

"Do NOT rub it in, Misao,"  he tweaked at her nose.   

…………………………………………..

Baka – Cow ……..oops, I mean, foolish, stupid, idiot  ^^  

That, in a nutshell, was White and Black, the story this one is the sequel of.  Sorry if I keep plugging it. Writer's pride in her work; I think I did my best work for it.  ^_^   Thanks for reading this piece as well.  Completed in three days, to keep me awake studying for a long exam and to avoid studying for a subject I never really liked. ^^  Thanks again.  


	12. of suspicions and warnings

Hiya all again. I'm trying to make as many chapters as I can think up before life gets crazy for me again. It's the semester break, and I'm taking advantage. I had an idea brewing which a recent post by Firuze-nee- san only fueled. I hope you all like my answer and my opinion, about why I'm one of those people going against the grind and pairing up a weasel with a tiger. ^^  
  
...........  
  
"Yukishiro-san, you have to get out of here!"  
  
Seta Soujirou begged with a huff and a puff, hands on the desk, at the other end of which Yukishiro Enishi had a set of papers strewn before him. Despite knowing that this was an unprecedented event--considering that after all this was Seta Soujirou--he ignored the young man and continued with his work.  
  
"Yukishiro-san, I am serious! You have to go hide!"  
  
"From what, my blue-haired friend? The financial records are all straight." He had not lifted his eyes from his paperwork, as he balanced out the largest of the company's assests.  
  
"They're going to kill you if they still find you here, Yukishiro- san."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Somebody named Wu. Or his associates."  
  
"Don't know him."  
  
He arranged a few papers to get them out of his way, fixed his fountain pen, and completely ignored Seta for the next five minutes.  
  
A month had passed since Enishi returned to Kyoto and to Misao. The wedding was set to happen within three weeks. The okashira had not objected. "Congratulations" was all he said, then he disappeared the rest of day to meditate. Enishi was quite aware that the okashira was just too honorable to say anything against the match, but he was disappointed Misao had chosen so. Enishi tried to make the best of it, and acknowledged the okashira's unselfless assistance in many occasions. If he could not be the okashira's friend, at least, he would be his ally in whatever plans he had for the future.  
  
Seta Soujirou responded to the announcement differently. He gave them both his happiest plastered smile, wished them many happy years together, and even invited them to dinner on his treat, as the okashira had just paid him for his services. The three of them had a good time one evening at the Shirobeko, discussing the couple's plans. Misao promised they would do it again, some other night, but that it would be their treat. Soujirou smiled wide and agreed.  
  
It was just that, something in his eyes felt odd to the white-haired businessman.  
  
"Yukishiro-san, you're not really listening to me," Seta sulked.  
  
"Of course not," he replied.  
  
Over the last month, Enishi immersed himself in work. He re-oriented himself with the business deals the company had done over the past year, including his export deals with Shanghai. He remembered most of it with a little prompting from documents, and smoothed out remaining final details. Many of the negotiations he had conducted while in Shanghai were now ready to be cemented. Soon metal parts would be regularly distributed to legitimate partners in the continent.  
  
Shiroyuki Shinichi was back in business.  
  
Kyoto and Tokyo were aware that 'Shiroyuki Shinichi' was currently the businessman to beat. All have failed to beat him. He was no-nonsense with business deals. He did not settle for second-best. He wanted quality results quickly. He knew how to apply pressure when needed. At the same time, his workers were compensated well if they deserved it, improving employee morale and service. Overall, it resulted in the fastest growing enterprise both cities, and most of Japan, had seen.  
  
Many friends and rivals of the company admitted this fact, and sent their congratulations on his safe return. Eventually the newspapers announced it as well, along with the news of his coming marriage.  
  
"What does this famous 'Shiroyuki Shinichi' look like, anyhow?" Soujirou had overheard a couple of men talking at a wayside stall.  
  
"Snow-white hair, and the best taste in Western clothes I've ever seen," someone replied. "If he didn't speak fluent Japanese, I could've sworn he was a foreigner!"  
  
One man soon left after hearing this description, and Soujirou tailed him.  
  
The man soon turned at a small alley and spoke with another man there, as the freelance spy listened at the corner.  
  
"Tell Boss Wu, he's finally here."  
  
"Will do, but you know the boss' instructions, right?"  
  
"Once we learn the code, he goes."  
  
"Right."  
  
The men parted ways. Soujirou then proceeded immediately to the metalworks factory, to the operating manager's office.  
  
Many people knew Shiroyuki, but only a few knew Yukishiro: the highest of police, Shinomori, Seta, Makimachi, and the Himuras. Therefore, for someone to be informing another not about Shiroyuki but about Yukishiro was something that deserved concern.  
  
Seta banged on the desk. "Yukishiro-san, will you please stop and listen to me for a while?"  
  
"Oh, are you still here?" he finally looked up at him.  
  
"Yukishiro-san, listen! People are going to kill you!"  
  
"Beginning with you, I suppose," he nonchalantly smirked at him.  
  
Seta took his hands off the desk. "What...is that supposed to mean?"  
  
Enishi puts his hands behind his head. "Don't think it has not come to my attention that you are attracted to Misao."  
  
"That is NOT true, Yukishiro-san," he grinned his plastered grin at the businessman.  
  
"You have always been nice to her, you have done all of those favors for her, you also probably took her out to dinner yourself without me. Am I mistaken?"  
  
"Yes, you are," Seta smiled. "You ARE mistaken."  
  
"Really?" he said with sarcasm. "Now how could that be? Such a handsome young man as yourself? Not fall for a pretty girl like her?"  
  
"Well, it seems you will not listen to what I have to say until I answer you," he smiled again, and pulled up a chair. "As hard as it may be to believe, I only consider Misao-san as my friend. She has my respect as a fellow operative, and she has my support in anything she will do."  
  
"Yet you have not been attracted to her? I find that hard to believe," Enishi chuckled. "I knew I had a rival in Shinomori, but I should have paid more attention to you."  
  
"Why do you think so?" he tilted his head and grinned.  
  
"I am not dense," the other man replied. "You two are roughly the same age. You get along well together. And you are quite opposite in personality to compliment each other. Well?"  
  
Seta shrugged. "Other people have said that as well, about us, Shinomori-san included. However, I still say that Misao-san is only my friend."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"First of all, I cannot commit to a relationship as of yet. I have no stable source of income, as you well know. Freelancing also means that I don't stay in one place for long. One week I could be in Kyoto, another week I might have to suddenly go to Hokkaido. I have been around females long enough to realize that such a life is not to their liking. They like stability, and that is something I cannot provide. I have chosen to be a wanderer, much like Himura-san, and I am aware that the wanderer's life is destined to be lonely.  
  
"Secondly, it would be unwise for me to even try to have more than a simple friendship with her, knowing that initially she admired Shinomori- san, then admired you. I would not allow myself to be disappointed in an undertaking I knew would fail from the beginning. This way, as her friend, I am sure I have at least a small place in her heart, the way she has with all her friends, and that is enough for me.  
  
"Finally, someone as bubbly as Misao-san is best harnessed by someone like you. Someone older and wiser than her, someone who could control her raw energy and channel it to productive pursuits. I am too young to be that someone, and I am not wise enough. In fact, I allow her to control me most of the time. I, myself, am looking for my answers in life, so I should not be escorting another through this haphazard process I am going through. Thus, she chose you.  
  
"All of that taken into consideration, please believe me when I say that she is only my friend, and nothing more. Because she is my friend, I consider you my friend as well, as a courtesy to her. I honor her choice, and I will continue to help her and you as best I can."  
  
Enishi listened to the speech with interest. There was a touch of regret in the young man's voice, carefully masked by the cheerfulness in his demeanor. But it was also filled with sincerity, that Enishi did not question. He realized that, like Himura, Seta could have brainwashed him to believe things to his advantage, but did not. He told him the whole truth, and held nothing back. The young man was glib, but he was true to him.  
  
He stood up, closed the windows and the door, and returned to his seat.  
  
"I apologize for doubting your intentions, Seta. Now, talk. Who did you say wanted to kill me?"  
  
"A certain Boss Wu. If I remember correctly, he used to be your second man. Do you know him?"  
  
"I......think I do.....I remember seeing the name in the files before. Why?"  
  
"Two men said that after they got the code from you, you were to be eliminated. I assume they work for that Boss Wu. As I think you would not give them the code they are after, if you recall which code that would be, I seriously suggest you leave Kyoto for the time being."  
  
"But what about------"  
  
"Misao-san? We'll explain the situation and keep her safe here."  
  
The statement got the better of the businessman. "I knew it. That is your ulterior motive, isn't it? Keep her here, get me away from her, and get me killed someplace else," Enishi folded his arms and scowled.  
  
"Absolutely NOT, Yukishiro-san!" Seta protested.  
  
"And when I'm out of the way, you'll make her love you, and that's that," Enishi finished.  
  
It was the last straw. Soujirou clenched his teeth and drew out his sword. He pointed it at Enishi's face.  
  
"I would not do that, Seta," Enishi quietly opened a drawer and cocked a gold-lined pistol. "A sword is also my preferred weapon, but it can only do so much against firearms."  
  
"Don't you dare point a pistol at me, Yukishiro," the other did not lower his sword, and maintained a straight face. "You owe your life to me, as much as you do to Misao-san.. Try to remember THAT, and tell me if I have ulterior motives against you."  
  
Enishi only pointed the pistol straight at his skull.  
  
"Ah, so you have forgotten that, too? The man who framed you had left you to die in a burning building. After the man confessed, I rushed into the building to save your hide. You know, I could have told Misao-san that I tried my best but I could not find you? I could have left you to die in there. As it was, you were quite dead already when I pulled you out. I gave her your exact status, and only then did Misao-san do the rest."  
  
Enishi knit his brows for a few seconds, then looked again at Soujirou, without lowering the pistol. "Go on."  
  
"On my word of honor, only one thing passed through my mind then: losing you would make my friend very sad, and I did not want her sad. I did not think of you as a rival or an enemy; you were the friend of my friend. That is all. That is why I helped you. That is why I am helping you now."  
  
He resheathed his sword, and gave a plastered smile.  
  
"I am like you; I'm still learning how to trust others unconditionally. I understand your concern. But also understand that with regards to Misao-san, my actions have no hidden motives. I will try to get more information for you, but you would be wise to lay low. I will see you at the Aioya. "  
  
Soujirou exited the office, with as close to a frown as he could muster.  
  
Animosity notwithstanding, Enishi walked toward the wall beside his window to the street, and leaned against it. He observed all the people coming and going through the factory's avenue. He even saw Misao pass by with a basketful of vegetables slung on one arm.  
  
But after he saw her, he noticed that one man, leaning on a lamppost, had not changed position for a long time, and kept his eye on his window. Like him, the man wore Western clothing, stiffly, with the manner of one trained in the military. It made him slightly conspicuous to passersby but not enough to arouse suspicion. To pass time, the man smoked several cigarettes.  
  
So it was true what Seta had told him. But it did not mean he was not going home to be with Misao. He hid his hair under a large leather hat, stuffed the pistol under his brown American suit and left the factory.  
  
As he walked through the cobbled streets, he noted that the man from the lamppost followed him a short distance away. He kept redirecting his route, but the man was too good to lose the trail. As he turned the corner to reach the Aioya, he looked behind him. Alas, the tall smoker in Western clothes leaned on a wall nearby.  
  
Also, all throughout his ever-changing route, he saw various types of men hidden behind walls and stalls, who noted his presence. He was sure he was not imagining things; the criminal instinct of looking more than both ways still proved useful. He reproved himself for not noticing much earlier, and made an excuse of being too busy working to notice.  
  
He would worry about the threats on his life later. Now, he worried about the odd conversation he had with the wanderer.  
  
"What do you think of Seta Soujirou?" was the first question he asked upon arrival at the Aioya.  
  
"Good afternoon to you, too," Misao greeted with a raised eyebrow. "He's a nice guy. He's helped us a lot. Why do you ask?"  
  
He took her by the hand, and pulled her into the kitchen. There, he grabbed for one small porcelain sake bottle, and then yanked her into the garden area.  
  
But before he could raise the little bottle, Misao swiped it away from him, and threw it into the pond. "I am not marrying a drunkard, understood? Problems are settled best by discussion, not by weapons and not by drowning them in liquor."  
  
"Fine." He hated the stuff, anyway. He settled down on the veranda, and sat her beside him. "Exactly what is that young man to you, once and for all, Misao?"  
  
"Sou-chan?" She looked at him, tilted her head to one side and to the other, then laughed heartily. "Don't tell me you're jealous of him, Enishi!"  
  
In reply, Enishi put his hands to his waist and looked at her sternly.  
  
"Alright, alright! I'll take you seriously!" she said, trying to control her giggles. "He's my friend, so there, and that's all!"  
  
"Really, now?"  
  
"Look, my white-haired baka. I had no one to talk to while you were away. Aoshi-sama was around, of course, but he won't completely understand about you, am I right? Neither would any of the girls really understand. So he kept me company. He's quite a chatterbox when you get to know him. He kept me happy with stories here and there about what you were doing in the continent. And since he likes the woods, he goes with me through the long strolls while you were away. Does that answer your question?"  
  
"And all this time, for one year, you have not been.....um.....um....."  
  
"Attracted to Sou-chan? As I said, he's nice. That's all. He's nice. I like being his friend. He likes being my friend. That's fine with both of us. But for a husband? I don't think so," she grinned at the end. "He's just like the little brother I never had! And I don't want to marry my little brother."  
  
In not so many words, Misao had just confirmed what Soujirou said in so many words. So the feeling was mutual. They were dear friends, but nothing more.  
  
"There are many shades of friendship, my dear clueless one," she explained. "As you make more friends, you learn to enjoy those different shades and aspects. Soujirou is my friend, as is Himura, Kaoru-san, Aoshi- sama, many other people. I like them all as my friends, all in different ways. Similarly, my friendship with you is different from all the others. Every friendship is special in its own way, and I would be sorry to lose any of them."  
  
"You don't want to marry your little brother, or your adopted father," Enishi smirked. "That's why you're marrying a white-haired baka."  
  
"Not exactly," she grinned back. "I'm marrying my best friend."  
  
She patted his hand and leaned contentedly on his shoulder.  
  
.............  
  
I don't think that' s much of an answer, but that's how I see things about the S/M pairing. It's cute when it happens and when it works. (I've read S/M fics I've liked a lot.) But it seems that Misao is the kind of person who falls for mature, older men. Because even if she is wise beyond her years, for the most part she will stay this happy and bubbly girl all her life. She needs someone to stabilize him. It is not like Kaoru, who probably would be happy with a guy just a little older than herself. She's happy with Kenshin, not exactly because he's that many years older and wiser, but because even if he's that much older they think very much alike.  
  
As you can see, Sabbie-chan, I'm not done yet, and I won't be for a little while. ^^ The Vandread fic will be over in one more chapter, however. The second to the last chappie is already posted. Sorry for the long delay. Thanks much. Congrats on getting into that hard-to-get-into animation class!  
  
Curls of Serenity-He hasn't lost it, as you can well see. ^^ And he remembers.  
  
JML-The wandering smiley? Present and accounted for! Rakuninmura is in Tokyo, but Kyoto has something similar to it that Oibore said he would go to.  
  
Maeko-Nohara-Unfortunately I go for the mushy stuff with just a little angst mixed in. ^^ I hope this current speed is fast enough for ya.  
  
Mi-Happy ending? Aren't I known for that? But we'll see. ^^  
  
Devil1-Thanks much!  
  
BittersweetKandy-Thanks! I'm sorry you've missed the last chappie.  
  
CatH-Thanks for reminding me I was taking the Enishi-san thing a bit too far already. ^^ Glad you liked Oibore.  
  
Firuze-nee-san-Yeah. After that chapter I'm now convinced I'm not drinking alcohol myself. If I can imagine that it can happen to me, so I'd rather not. ^^ Well, we'll see where we can add Saint Misao.  
  
Jbramx2-Thanks for liking Oibore. I like that old geezer a lot too. ^^  
  
Mary-Ann-Thanks! I type the stuff as I see it in my head. ^^ I like that aspect of reading and writing, when you can see things in your head.  
  
Thanks again! I hope to see you soon! 


	13. of embassies and translations

Hi, everybody! After this chapter I'm slowing down again. I have to finish the Vandread fic this semester break, so it'll be out of my head. I'll try to finish all written content for the Crouching Tiger site, so I can pass it on to my friend who will make the layout. I have other things to type, and advanced readings to read. Thanks to everybody who read these last few fast chapters. They were a blast.  
  
Anata-Japanese sweet term for a spouse  
  
...........  
  
In a dojo back in Tokyo, life has been rather peaceful. For over a month life has been normal, as normal as it could possibly get in the less- than-normal Himura residence. They had not heard from their friends in Kyoto for some time, but as there was nothing worthy of report, they were not worried.  
  
That early morning, Yahiko warmed up for the day's lessons while teaching little Kenji some kendo basics. Kenji, armed with a bamboo sword made just his size, imitated Uncle Yahiko as he swung his wooden sword up and down in constant rhythm. For now Kenji was only playing at kendo, swinging the little bamboo sword up and down without control, but for a three-year-old his form was better than some of Yahiko's students. There was no denying that the boy was the product of two masters of the sword.  
  
"Mail for the Kamiya dojo!" A postman called from outside. Kenji immediately dropped his little sword and ran outside to get it.  
  
Yahiko smiled and shook his head. "No discipline at all, your mother would say." He shrugged. "Oh, well. He has at least two more years before I start formal training on him."  
  
Kenji cheerfully ran on into the house and into the kitchen. There he handed a rather thick envelope to his mother, eating breakfast with his father.  
  
Kaoru opened the packet, and scratched her head.  
  
"Anata?"  
  
"Hm?" Kenshin had not looked away from his rice bowl.  
  
"Just what kind of a weird letter IS this?!"  
  
Kenshin took the letter from her, looked at it front and back, turned it around a few times. He also glanced at the envelope. It had no return address.  
  
"Sorry, Kaoru-dono, but I can't read it either. It's in one of those foreign languages that do not use characters. It's in English, I think."  
  
"But why would someone send us a letter in English, if they know we can't read it?"  
  
"It might be because that someone is afraid of interception along the way to us. Do not worry, Kaoru-dono. We'll just find a translation service at the British or American embassy. Maybe that's what I'll do today; the precinct has no classes for me today so I have nothing to do. Care to come, Kaoru-dono?"  
  
"You're calling me 'Kaoru-dono' too much again, anata," Kaoru warned good-naturedly.  
  
"Gomen, koishii." Kenshin tugged at his very short ponytail.  
  
Nobody could entertain them at the American embassy; it was a bit too busy to handle non-business documents. Then, it took them some time before they reached the British embassy, as they had to pass through the precinct and ask for directions. By the time they did reach the embassy, it was already almost midday, and they ate at a roadside stall. So far, no suspicious characters had trailed them, if Kenshin's eyes were to be trusted.  
  
At the British embassy, they were directed to the far end of the second floor. A less than busy area, where dignitaries seldom passed. A man at the reception area took up their letter and checked for what kind of service the couple required.  
  
"This letter is odd. It's in English AND French," the man at the table said.  
  
"Ororo. We have to go to the French embassy as well?" Kenshin griped.  
  
"You may not have to," the man smiled. "Try Yorkshire over there," and he pointed at a corner desk. "He's new here, he's a bit odd, but he knows French and English like the back of his hand."  
  
The couple thanked the man and proceeded to the corner desk.  
  
The man at the corner desk looked like a university professor to a fault. A full head of white hair was smoothed down haphazardly and split to one side in an uneven line. His eyes, small for a gaijin, were hidden behind thick glasses. But his shirt and slacks were impeccable and well-pressed. As the couple approached, he was busy writing documents and filing them away.  
  
"G'Afternoon," the man greeted in English from behind the desk.  
  
"Um, we are Himura Kenshin and Kaoru," Kenshin introduced themselves. "We were told that you could help us translate this letter we received this morning."  
  
"At last, you're here," the man muttered with a light British accent.  
  
"You were expecting us, Mr. Yorkshire?" Kaoru asked, surprised.  
  
"Come this way, please," the man replied, as he stood up.  
  
He took a cane from behind a chair, and leaned on it heavily as he escorted the two into a small room without windows. He limped as he beckoned them to sit in two chairs in front of another desk. He then closed the door to the room and locked it.  
  
"The letter, please?" he asked. Kaoru gave it to him. He perused the letter, much the same way Kenshin did a few hours ago. As he finished, he smiled. "The whole letter is intact. The postal service is improving."  
  
"Well, yes," Kenshin nodded. "But can you help us with the letter?"  
  
Instead of answering, the man placed the letter inside a pocket. He then looked at them intently.  
  
"The contents of the letter, in either language, are not important."  
  
"What?" Both immediately questioned Yorkshire's credibility as a translator.  
  
"If a person could understand either French or English, he would read something coherent, but essentially he would read a lot of nonsense," the man explained, in spontaneous Japanese, without a trace of an accent. "The only purpose of that gibberish is to get you two here. I have to talk to you."  
  
The couple did not know what to make of it. "Mr. Yorkshire, maybe you should have gone to the police, instead of to us! We are ordinary citizens!" Kaoru replied.  
  
"While it is a matter for the police, I do not trust them completely. That is why I also need your help."  
  
"We are honored by your trust in us, Mr. Yorkshire--------" Kenshin continued when he was interrupted.  
  
"Yukishiro." He took off his glasses and smirked. "I must be getting better at this. I can actually deceive even you now."  
  
"But...but...why are you limping?" Kaoru asked with familiar concern after the initial shock.  
  
"Two or three cups of sake back in Kyoto.....tripped on the Aioya's dining room floor and twisted my ankle.....none of your concern," he replied as he perched the glasses back on his nose. "At any rate it helps with the disguise."  
  
"Does.....she...know you're here?" Kenshin asked.  
  
He shook his head. "Business trip, that's what she knows."  
  
He first gave them a summary of his business negotiations and movements over the past month, and the plans for a marriage within a few weeks. He also gave a summary of Soujirou's intelligence reports about threats on his life. "That is why I did not tell her. I've given her enough trouble already. Anyone who wants to kill me hopefully thinks I'm on a business trip. Even if they care to look in Tokyo, they would not look for me here. "  
  
Kenshin nodded. "How do we help you?"  
  
"Tell the police to keep an eye open for Wu Heishin, or his operatives. I know he is in Japan, probably even in Tokyo. He is after me. After all, it is my branch that I brought down, the branch I passed to him. Aside from the fact that Misao will miss me, my life in unimportant. However, if he is not taken down for good, my year in Shanghai would have been for nothing. He will only get stronger."  
  
He paced the small room as he told his story, cane on one hand, limping on one leg. "The story I want and don't want to remember. I remembered a day or two after I fought Seta. The story got me this bad ankle.  
  
"When I returned to Shanghai, against usual rules of the organization, I was placed in my old position, and Wu was demoted. I was told that his branch had not fared well during the years I was away, so I was missed. I had covered my tracks pretty well, and I was not really given to divulging information, so they didn't know I was connected to police. They thought I had gotten tired of being on the good side of the law, so they took me back.  
  
"The operations went rather smoothly. They did not dare contradict my plans and my movements. Therefore, because I was the one making the plans, buy-bust operations were simple to make, and the organization never knew what hit them. Even Wu did not suspect. As the one who worked out my plans, it was often he who took the blame, poor wretch. So it was. Wu no longer had any power or reputation to speak of before the leaders. Last year was as close to hell as Wu Heishin could get, through my hands. He deserved it anyway. I saw that Houji fellow work for Shishio. He was better on all counts than my spineless second man.  
  
"But I underestimated the time it will take for Wu to find out. I figured he would know only when I was safely out of the continent. I was wrong.  
  
"That snake invited me into one of his smaller boats, presumably to conduct an inspection on one of our warships for export. It had been a long day, and I let my guard down.  
  
"Sometime during the evening-I think he was discussing the lower deck of the warship--one of his henchmen hit me on the head. Two others finished the job from the front. They gave me no time to draw my pistol. The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was his ugly face laughing, laughing at me. I know they threw me overboard. I felt water all around me for a long time as I faded in and out, then finally I found myself in a fisherman's boat.  
  
"After that, I knew I was out for a long time. I woke up in a fisherman's hut, bandages on my head and body. And for the life of me, I could not remember a thing. Name, relationships, business, nothing. Well, you know the rest of this story, more than I do.  
  
"Anyway, now that I am out of his way for good, Wu could only squeal on me to the leaders and regain his position. He will try his best to build up what I tore down, and my branch will get stronger. All that remains for him to do, now he knows that I am still alive, is to really kill me."  
  
"So why hasn't he done it, Enishi?" Kenshin asked finally.  
  
"Seta mentioned something about a code. Wu does not have that code, but I do. He has to keep me alive long enough for him to get the code, then finish me off."  
  
"What is the code? And what is it for?"  
  
He hobbled back into the seat. "That, unfortunately, I still don't recall." He raised his index finger. "But as he knows that you are connected with me, I advise you to be careful. Always keep an eye on your family. Try to get as much information on their operations here. Be aware of any suspicious activity."  
  
"We understand," Kaoru answered.  
  
"If you have more information, you know where to find me," Enishi smiled gratefully as he opened the door, and changed his voice to include an accent. "I hope I have been of help to you. Don't worry, there is no charge for this translation." He then proceeded to his desk.  
  
Kenshin, however, stopped the hand that held the cane, and looked at him carefully. "If it is not too much to ask, Mr. Yorkshire, may we invite you for dinner, to return the favor? I am sure my....son...would like to see you as well."  
  
Mr. Yorkshire smiled warmly. It had indeed been a while since Enishi had seen Kenji, and he missed the little boy. "Alright. Let me arrange my desk, and we can go."  
  
They slowly walked back to the dojo that afternoon, keeping time with their limping white-haired guest. The conspicuous head was covered in a large brown leather hat, worn at the edges. It completed the impression of a scholarly foreigner.  
  
"How did you get that job?" Kaoru had to ask.  
  
"Despite the influx of foreigners into Japan, there are only a few who can really speak the language," Yorkshire maintained the slight British accent. "The services of those few are extremely helpful to the embassies, so they do not bother to really ask for credentials. I applied, I took their test, I got the job. Simple. They assume I'm a scholar for Japanese studies."  
  
"How long will you stay?"  
  
"Hopefully, not long. I do have to get back to Kyoto and keep my promise to Misao," he smiled. "How is Kenji?"  
  
Kenshin grinned happily. "Kenji, he would not stop asking about Eni- chan! Yahiko is teaching him the basic kendo strokes. He wants to learn how to use a sword like Uncle Yahiko and Uncle Eni-chan, according to him."  
  
"I'm a good example for a change. I forgot to make him a paper crane before we left, you do have to remind me about it when we get to your house."  
  
His unease in talking to the couple was directed to his slight difficulty in walking. The conversation became pleasant. He further discussed the wedding plans, while they kept telling stories about Kenji. All safe and harmless topics of discussion, which made both sides calmer.  
  
Thus they got home to the Kamiya dojo, with Enishi actually laughing at a story of Kenji's antics.  
  
But as they turned the corner, they found the assistant kendo teacher still on the premises, two hours after the last class. His clothes were all askew, and sweat covered his face. Upon seeing them, he ran.  
  
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!?!"  
  
Yahiko met the three with extreme panic.  
  
"He's gone! I've looked everywhere, I've asked everyone! What took you two so long?!" He angrily pointed at the man in glasses. "It's....It's all YOUR fault, isn't it? Where is he?!"  
  
The man addressed immediately turned pale, and got deadly serious. "When? By whom? Did they leave a ransom note?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Kaoru demanded. "What happened?"  
  
"You two have got to be the most clueless parents in Tokyo!" Yahiko yelled at the couple.  
  
"No time for name-calling," Enishi intervened with lowered head. "He's right, I'm probably the reason for it." He spoke to Yahiko again. "You have been to every possible nook and cranny he could be found?"  
  
"YES! I've asked the whole town!"  
  
"Contact the police. Kenji has been kidnapped."  
  
........  
  
"Whose idea was it to name this fellow 'Yorkshire'?! Even Sir Arthur Conan Doyle with his weird names for people didn't do as awfully as 'Yorkshire'!!" "That would be EK."  
  
While I was thinking of whether to make Enishi British or French, I kept thinking of Yorkshire terriers. I was still half asleep then, half dreaming up this chapter. ^^ Yorkshire sounded pretty close to Eni-chan's surname, so that got used, and he became British. I just hate the way my tongue hits my teeth whenever I say Yorkshire; it's quite a mouthful. ^^ Anyway, I hope you liked this chappie, and I hope you wait patiently for the next one, because it will take a while again. See ya! 


	14. of cigarettes and worries

Hiya! I am SUCH a sucker for alternate pairings. While I do like Ranma for Akane, I can't help but wish for Akane to end up with Ryoga instead. ^^ This one didn't come as fast as the others, I apologize. Thanks for waiting, and I hope you like it.  
  
............  
  
To their credit, the parents took control of the situation and did not panic. One immediately rushed to the police, and made requests that the ports and all exit points be watched. The other went to all the neighbors and asked for more information.  
  
It was the uncle who was stunned.  
  
True, Mr. Yorkshire reported for work the next day, submitted reports, met several important clients and finished translating their documents in record time. But when the day ended, and no word or sign from the couple arrived, he hobbled back to the Kamiya dojo, deep in thought.  
  
Kenji-kun was not dead, in that he was absolutely certain. There would be no point in killing him; neither side would get what they want, and people will be arrested for murdering a child. It was also improbable that he was carried off to Shanghai, despite the notoriety of that city to such things. The target of the kidnapping was in Tokyo, so they had to keep the victim at least within Japanese territory.  
  
"Enishi...."  
  
He knew he had been less than discreet about contacting the Himuras, especially when he was still remembering bits and pieces of what he was. People knew he was attached to the little boy, and that this would be the best way to get to him. And get to him, they did, he admitted to himself. The little boy liked him, when the rest of the world did not. The little boy accepted him, when he himself would not. Now the boy had been taken away, and he knew full well that it was because of him.  
  
He thought he knew what Himura would feel when he "killed" Kamiya. The torture it would be to him when he saw the woman he swore to protect, dead at his feet. He did not know the half. He did not realize the pain to the heart, the pressure to the brain, the torture to the soul. He did not know. It was only now that he realized just how cruel he had been to his brother-in-law back then. Unfortunately, not only was he in no position to make amends, he was doing it to him again.  
  
As much as he wanted to drown it out, he had to be content with staring at the open blankness of the dojo's practice area. There was not a drop of alcohol in the whole house. The couple had been too busy to explain why. No matter. Thoughts and fears that wanted drowning out, will be, some way, somehow.  
  
"Yukishiro Enishi! Talk to me!"  
  
Just not while the weasel was around, who insisted that he talk to her about it. NOW he understood how Shinomori got to be that morose, at least that serious. One can only stand so much from an eternally energetic weasel. He actually liked her for being feisty, and wanting her way. It reminded him that at least one person existed in the world whom he had to deal with. It was just annoying sometimes.  
  
Nonetheless, he missed her, and he rather regretted that he did not tell her. In worrying that he would make her worried, he forgot that not telling her at all might make her more worried in the end. Men were easier to handle. He really had to get the proper timing right with women.  
  
He would.....he would tell her....he promised. As soon...as he settled this problem about Kenji-kun. But HOW?  
  
"Enishi!"  
  
Alright, already, woman....because it was a woman shouting at him.  
  
He looked up slightly, and made out a short black outfit and long hair.  
  
He felt the woman sit down beside him. "Don't worry, my friend. We all make a good team. We'll find him."  
  
They will find him, alright, when he gives in to the kidnappers' demands. The problem was, he did not know what they wanted, exactly. He could not remember. The final solution to the problem rested on him, and he did not know the final solution.  
  
"You feel like only you have the answer to this problem, is that it, Enishi? You think it's your fault?"  
  
How did this woman know what he was thinking? It was not his sister talking; it was another voice.  
  
"That's not true, my white-haired baka," she said as she ruffled his hair. "It's not your fault this happened; it just happened. And we'll all help each other find him. It's not just you who will solve this; we all will. Alright, Enishi?"  
  
He did not answer.  
  
She continued. "You know, people think I'm this eternally optimistic girl who never cries. That's not true. I cry, I feel lonely, I get sad, like everyone else. I guess, what makes me different, is that I know I have friends around to help me. I've been through that, taking on the world by myself and telling myself I don't need others. In the end, I found myself going back to my friends, or winning new friends, friends who will help me through the problems."  
  
He knew this woman, alright. It was his weasel, trying, once again, to talk some sense into him. What was she doing here? He would ask later. Right now, he was just glad she was around.  
  
"You and Aoshi-sama, you're alike that way. You keep your problems to yourselves, until you could no longer contain it. Aoshi-sama broods it away; you explode or you, well, act like this. But both of you start the same way. If only you would let your friends know you need them, they would be more than willing to help."  
  
He knew she was right. And he would take her at her word.  
  
He moved one arm across her back to her waist, and moved the other arm as well, until he fully embraced her from behind. He leaned his head on her shoulder, and let the tears flow.  
  
.................  
  
"ARE YOU INSANE?!"  
  
"Only as insane as you! How dare you leave without telling me!"  
  
"I don't want you killed, that's why!"  
  
"So do I! I do NOT want to be left in the dark again!"  
  
"Stop acting like my guardian angel!"  
  
"And stop acting like a lone ranger!"  
  
"Kenshin, are you sure these two are getting married in a few weeks?" Kaoru asked.  
  
"Oro," he replied.  
  
"Well, at least they fight like a married couple," Yahiko chuckled. "That should be good."  
  
It was the afternoon after, and the two were almost at each others' throats. The tiger was growling at the weasel with all his might, but the weasel held her ground and evaded all attacks.  
  
"If they find out you're here, you'll be their next victim, and you'll definitely be killed!"  
  
"As if I'll just let you die by yourself when I can do something about it?"  
  
"The Tenken told you, didn't he? That traitor!"  
  
"I made him tell me, you white-haired baka!"  
  
"Even so-----"  
  
"You really should have told me yourself!"  
  
"YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE LEFT!" each accused the other simultaneously.  
  
Then they laughed together.  
  
"I call a truce," the tiger pulled at her braid.  
  
"Truce accepted, but stop pulling at my hair!" the weasel replied.  
  
The audience heaved a sigh of relief.  
  
Misao took her seat beside Kaoru at the dining table. Enishi started to pace with difficulty. He assumed the demeanor of the powerful leader. "Well, what do you have?"  
  
"Not much, I am afraid," Kenshin placed an arm around Kaoru's shoulder. "The ports and gates are all guarded now, but they all say it is now too late to catch up with any kidnappers."  
  
"Nobody has seen anything suspicious," Yahiko added. "No crying boy carried off by some men..."  
  
Enishi tsked. "It's too late now for us to chase after them. Make them come to us."  
  
"How?" Kaoru asked.  
  
"Tell them we have what they want, if they are willing to trade. We should not let them have the upper hand over us. It is we who are controlling the negotiations, not them. You have contacts with the police, yes?"  
  
Kenshin gave him a patented rurouni smile. "Our contact is standing outside the door right now, smoking for three people."  
  
Enishi turned around, and saw the shadow of the man who had been tailing him. "You! What do you want from me?"  
  
The shadow gave one more puff, and came to the light. Well-pressed police uniform, well-slicked hair, as always. "Information."  
  
"I.....remember you.....vaguely," Enishi smirked at him. "The man who wrote all those reports about me. I'm glad you think well of me."  
  
The man hmphed, and leaned on a post.  
  
"The potential fish to fry is so big, they had to call me in from Hokkaido. Your branch is after a set of numbers that it seems only you know. Those numbers are contacts for a massive weapons trade between Shanghai and America. One that both sides will deny, but a very lucrative one all the same. Therefore, if you have those numbers, surrender them now."  
  
"You always had a fine way with words, Saitou," Kenshin sweatdropped.  
  
"I don't know them," Enishi cocked his head at the policeman.  
  
"You don't know, or you don't want me to know?" he retorted.  
  
"I know I am a liar for a living, but believe me when I say I do not remember those codes!"  
  
"If you want to see that little redhaired nuisance again, you better start racking your brains." Saitou took another puff.  
  
Enishi raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Don't think they will stop at kidnapping, Yukishiro," the policeman continued. "They will do to him what the organization did to you. But then," he shrugged, "maybe you don't care enough about the tyke to do anything. You will let him grow up as a criminal, much like you. It will indeed be some kind of revenge against Battousai, am I right?"  
  
The household planted their eyes on Enishi. He became aware of all five people around him, carefully reading his face and his eyes. At first he was confused about all the attention. After all, the boy's safety was foremost on his mind. Then...he recalled and understood. He chuckled. "You folks are always suspicious of people you don't know. And, no, I have nothing up my sleeve." He walked out on them with a slight limp. "Give me time to think. Work with what I've already said. You're all pretty smart people."  
  
"But, Enishi..." Misao called after him.  
  
"Good NIGHT, weasel!" his voice answered with finality.  
  
But as he sat alone in the guest room, pieces of paper laid before him remained blank. The mastermind of so many successful operations, did not have a plan.  
  
...........  
  
Poor Eni-chan, he's been a major outlet for me these past few weeks. Now I'm convinced that writing is good therapy. ^^ I am really so sorry for the delay, only to have this. I really can't think of what to do next yet! If you have any ideas I can use, my ears are open. I'll probably have something better for you guys over the holidays.  
  
JML-Oh, dear, somebody's always first to my great ideas. ^^ Thanks for the support!  
  
Maeko-Nohara and Nanami-What's up? Severe writer's block, that's what, along with my so-called life. I hope you've read Fire and Magic for the time being. ^^  
  
CurlsofSerenity-We'll see about your idea, we'll see.  
  
Sabbie-I hope you did get into that animation class you wanted!  
  
Jbramx2-Thanks for the liking the dialogue. It's just me venting out through my boyfriend-erm, I mean, through Eni-chan. ^^ Yeah, I liked Sou- chan there, too. Thanks for liking the Yorkshire bit!  
  
CatH-In my case, I guess it's too much Fushigi Yuugi and mushy anime in my lifetime that makes me do mushy parts. Classics do have their share of mushy moments, too. Yeah, I understand your point about Soujirou being mature for his age, but I still think he'll want to enjoy being a kid for a while longer all the same. Much like Kenshin, who in some aspects is a big little boy. ^^ Drool-worthy! Nice description for Eni-chan!  
  
Thanks again, and I hope to see you in a few weeks. 


	15. of swords and weasels

Hi, everyone, and happy new year. Sorry for the delay. My mind refuses to work for this story. Hopefully you like this chappie. Thanks to everybody who's still reading this little piece, despite the change in the RK demographics and all.  
  
To the best of my knowledge, the shinai is the usual kendo sword, the one you see with Yahiko in the series. The bokutou is the more swordlike wooden sword, the one Kaoru uses in actual battle. I apologize for my descriptions. I love RK, but I was never any good at knowing the techniques. ^_^ Argh, this chap took so long to write, arrrrgh..  
  
................  
  
Yukishiro Enishi was annoyed.  
  
He was in the middle of a mental block, worse than all the others he had before. This was the worst kind, when absolutely nothing came to mind. All the rest could be considered mental lapses compared to it. Before, it was just a matter of remembering fully what used to be there. In this situation, he had to work with what was supposed to be in his brain through past experience, and add something new. No plans were forming in his head. Such a situation was dreadfully irritating to a man who planned strategies for some sort of a living, illegal but profitable.  
  
In fairness to the businessman, kidnap for ransom or for exchange was not the bread-and-butter of his section of the organization. He used to be into trade negotiations and business deals, very large ones. Unfortunately, kidnapping was one of the means he was familiar with to place pressure where needed. He knew how to use kidnapping to good advantage. And worse, he knew that Wu was a master of the trade. After all, did he not partly orchestrate Kamiya's kidnap a few years back?  
  
And that, was dreadfully annoying.  
  
He released his frustration on sword drills that morning, after a restless night of fruitless thinking. He still had trouble with his ankle, but by that morning he could walk with it quite normally. The drills proceeded to his satisfaction, but slower than usual. Armed with a bokuto, the kendo sword more similar to a real one, he swung and followed patterns - angrily, gracelessly.  
  
All around him, there seemed to be targets to hit with his wooden sword. First, Wu, with a hand wrapped over his little friend's head. But he was replaced and alternated by another, long-standing target of his wrath. A man with red hair and threatening eyes. When this target appeared before him again, he lost no time. He charged and thrust with a loud scream.  
  
But the thrust was blocked. His target looked him straight in the eyes.  
  
"Why do you hate me so?" he was calmly asked, as his sword was brought low.  
  
"Don't bother me, Battousai!" he gripped the sword tightly and snarled.  
  
"Kenshin, Himura Kenshin, please," the former assassin reminded.  
  
"Shut up." He snatched back the wooden sword. "It's bad enough that I have to live with you. It's worse that I happen to like your offspring. Now I have to actually help you. You! Of all people, why does it have to be you?! Sacre' bleu!"  
  
He stomped to the far end of the dojo's practice area. He closed his eyes, held the sword before him, and tried to focus on the next sequence of drills. But Battousai's face appeared before him again. "Damn!" He charged again, toward the real one. "Get out of my life!!"  
  
As soon as he saw him running, Kenshin rushed to a wall and grabbed a shinai for himself. He was just in time to stop the bokutou from hitting his chest.  
  
"Let go of the past, Enishi," he said, keeping a firm block with the shinai. "Move on."  
  
"Why are you asking me to forget it all again, Battousai?" Enishi asked, without removing the wooden sword. "For over 15 years, you were the thoughts of my waking hours, the contents of my nightmares. You cannot just ask me to erase, again, more than 15 years of my life!"  
  
Enishi broke away from the deadlock, took the sword overhead into both hands and swung down. He hit wooden flooring.  
  
Enishi's target had moved to one side and had his shinai over the bokutou. "Too slow, even for you," his opponent quietly noted. "Stop this already, Enishi. You have already forgiven me, have you not?"  
  
"I never forgave you, even then. I only lost to you." He pulled the bokutou from off the floor. "True, my sister's journal made me understand her feelings for you. True, Seta told me it was an accident." He suddenly tackled Kenshin to the floor, and held the wooden sword lengthwise over his throat. "But you took my sister away from me. I never forgave you for that."  
  
Kenshin's face was resolute. He showed neither defeat nor retaliation. As Enishi breathed heavily over his face, he kept silence. It drove the snowhaired man to more wrath. He dug the wooden sword deeper into Kenshin's neck. "Does the weight of your remorse keep you from answering? Well? Let go of the past, you say. Move on, you say. Have YOU done that, o philosophical one?"  
  
The lock on Kenshin's neck was held, until both heard the cocking of a pistol.  
  
"Now who do I shoot? Which fool do I help out of his misery?"  
  
It was Saitou. He had a pistol aimed at both men, just a foot away. Enishi looked at him with cold eyes. Kenshin gave him a momentary sideglance, and resumed an earnest gaze at his opponent.  
  
The officer tsked. "Both of you are pathetic." He withdrew the pistol, and walked back to the door. "I'll let you two little boys fight it out first. Maybe afterward you would be mature enough to hear new information."  
  
At this, Kenshin turned and looked intently at Saitou. "Please, Saitou, any news of Kenji?" He managed to ask as he choked.  
  
Saitou took out a cigarette and lighted it. "Oh, no. Not until you little boys settle your squabble."  
  
"Why you -----------" Enishi took the bokutou off Kenshin's neck and turned to face the officer.  
  
But from the floor Kenshin swung the shinai at Enishi's knees and made him trip. Enishi hissed and swung the bokutou toward Kenshin's neck. He missed him entirely; Kenshin had rolled away and assumed a runner's starting position. He made a slight leap, took the shinai into both hands and forcibly hit Enishi's right shoulder. It made him release the bokutou and kneel from the shock.  
  
"Now, please, Saitou, tell us what you know," Kenshin implored.  
  
"It's not over yet," Saitou replied, and pointed behind Kenshin.  
  
Enishi charged with both hands on the sword, readying an upward swing. Kenshin easily countered with one downward stroke.  
  
Enishi withdrew and panted. "How DARE you think so lightly of me!"  
  
"You are not even fighting at a quarter of the level of skill you showed me then," Kenshin looked him squarely in the eyes. "Your ankle is still a bit swollen, and a lot is on your mind. You are in no condition to fight me. Do not do this. What will Kenji -----"  
  
"Don't bring Kenji into this! This is between you and me, and nobody else!"  
  
"What we do affects others, whether we like it or not, Enishi!"  
  
"What you did to Yukishiro Tomoe affected me as well, Hitokiri Battousai, sink that into your head!"  
  
"But the past is the past, and there is nothing you nor I can do to change it!"  
  
Red dragon and white tiger continued exchanging blows and words, while Saitou looked on and puffed.  
  
Eventually Kaoru came running to the dojo, surprised to see the police officer in her house at such an early hour, and annoyed at hearing loud noises in the dojo before students were expected. "What is all the ruckus about?" She asked Saitou, before taking a look inside. Upon seeing her husband and his brother-in-law, her face turned red. "What.....why....SAITOU-SAN! Why aren't you stopping them?!"  
  
"Waste of time, raccoon," he said.  
  
"But....but...." she then remembered, "What news of Kenji?"  
  
Saitou sighed. "Seeing as you are the most level-headed person right now," he took a puff, "The weasel went on a reconnaissance mission last night until this morning, and she has told one of our informants the location of the Shanghai dealer's current hideout. Another informant, who stayed after she left, said he noticed a little redhaired boy in the premises."  
  
"Is he....is he....."  
  
"In something like a cage, but fine."  
  
Tears began to well up in Kaoru's eyes. "Saitou-san....I could just hug you!" And she would have, if his piercing eyes did not tell her to cease and desist. "Let's go and get my son!"  
  
Saitou merely nodded toward the ongoing swordfight in response.  
  
Both were still at it, and both had not noticed Kaoru's arrival. Both of them used their wooden swords to full advantage, and delivered hard blows. Kenshin now had bruises on his arms. Enishi's bad ankle had swollen again, from all the quick turns he forced himself to make.  
  
"Stop living in the past, Enishi!" Kenshin struck.  
  
"YOU have to stop reminding me of it!" Enishi parried.  
  
They separated from each other.  
  
"We already started, Enishi," Kenshin panted. "Why cannot we work together? Let us put our differences aside, and work together."  
  
"I have tried working with you, Himura. But the look in your eyes stop me from trusting you completely."  
  
Kenshin assumed his clueless gaze.  
  
Enishi did not lower his bokutou. "No matter how you try, you keep giving me those eyes that judge me. I forced you to remember my sister when you almost forgot her. I made your life miserable with the remembrance. I ruined your life with that new woman. YOU would not let go of your past with me. So why should I let go of my past with you and my sister?"  
  
"You do not understand. Every time I see you, I recall not what you did to me, but what I did to your sister. The eyes of judgment you see are for myself."  
  
Enishi assumed a thrusting position. "If you had not met my sister in the first place, we would not be in this situation!" He charged.  
  
"STOP IT!" a female voice screamed in front of him.  
  
Kaoru got in between the combatants with arms outspread. "STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!"  
  
In surprise, Enishi fell backward and dropped the wooden sword. "Nee-san!"  
  
"Tomoe!" the color in Kenshin's face disappeared.  
  
"I've had enough of you two!" Kaoru screamed again.  
  
She raised a menacing finger to both men. "I have heard more than enough self-pity out of you both! You are useless! Why are you letting a dead woman run your lives?! TOMOE IS DEAD! DEAD! The dead cannot dictate on the living! Mistakes have been made, fine! Stop moping about them, both of you!"  
  
The two could only look at Kaoru, dumbfounded and ashamed.  
  
"Saitou was right. You are no better than two boys fighting over spilt milk." She grabbed for the bokutou and the shinai, and turned her backs to them. "You will excuse me. I have a son to get back. I will find a way to do it myself. It seems like two boys I know can't stop fighting over something they lost years ago." She returned the wooden swords to their places on the walls, and walked back to Saitou. She raised her head to him, and spoke with angered resolve. "Saitou-san, please, give me the location. I'll go there personally."  
  
"But....but....Kaoru-dono...." Kenshin called after her.  
  
"Kaoru-dono! Kaoru-dono! Do I have to be dead as well before I really become plain Kaoru to you, anata? Oooooh, MEN!" She stomped out of the dojo, and marched toward the kitchen. There, away from irritating husband and annoying houseguest, she wept.  
  
In the dojo, Saitou remained smoking by the door, and ignored the combatants, both with lowered head and ashen faces. They remained so as the officer finished a cigarette.  
  
"She is right, Kaoru-dono is," Kenshin eventually whispered.  
  
"Hm," Enishi answered, seated on the floor, arms over one knee, his right leg extended for the sake of the swollen ankle. "Maybe I shouldn't have bothered remembering all of this. You should have left me in the dark. Start from scratch. All that. Well?"  
  
"My conscience would not allow it," Kenshin murmured.  
  
"The law won't allow it," Saitou added. "Your records, and all of the riffraff you met in your misspent life, will come back to haunt you."  
  
"Hm," Enishi replied, and buried his head.  
  
Saitou took another puff. "I forgot to tell the raccoon. There are reports from the weasel that Shinomori and Seta are coming over here. Evidently the weasel has told her friends in Kyoto, and they want to help."  
  
"The weasel has been hard at work?" Enishi raised his head and looked at the officer.  
  
"The girl annoys me, but she is not selfish, unlike a redhead and a snowman I know," Saitou answered.  
  
Both clenched fists, then lowered them. As usual, Saitou Hajime was right.  
  
"Go after the woman, Himura. Right now," he ordered. Kenshin nodded and complied, dragging his sandals. Saitou then tossed a small piece of paper to the businessman. "As for you, you might make something out of this."  
  
It was a crumpled telegram. "No access code, no exchange. Stop." It was dated two days prior to Kenji's kidnapping.  
  
Enishi nodded. "I remember. My second to the last mission in Shanghai before going home. Our contact to America made me memorize a set of numbers. The numbers will be their way to confirm that they are dealing with me directly."  
  
"What are those numbers?"  
  
"I.....I......don't recall. Four digits, non-consecutive, on that I am sure. Kamiya said something about Wu's location?"  
  
"Here." Saitou displayed a folded paper between two fingers. "Your weasel gave it to us. She had been busy last night."  
  
Enishi took the paper from him and examined it. He shook his head and clucked. The map was good, the diagram of the warehouse even better. Misao was incredible when she wanted to be.  
  
"It's enough information," he nodded. "It makes the fool open for any kind of well-laid attack. He just doesn't know it........."  
  
He stopped.  
  
"That's it," he muttered, looking straight ahead of him.  
  
"That's it, what?"  
  
"He thinks I'll mount a well-laid attack, but what if I don't? I think.....I know how to get the little brat....I...I mean...I know how to get Kenji back now," he answered, still absentmindedly.  
  
The officer looked at him oddly.  
  
"Alright.....how?"  
  
He smirked. "Leave that to me."  
  
.........  
  
Sorry, not much action yet. It's taking me such a long time now to think up a scene, unlike before. It used to come so quickly. Now, I have to make a conscious effort to imagine things. This one took me several days going on and off. Still, thanks for reading. I hope you come back for more! 


	16. of notes and numbers

Hello everybody! This one came to me quickly, at the expense of school reading. That's OK, I'll find a way to make up for it. ^^ I'll be a good student again, and you won't hear from me for quite a while, so I'm making the most out of the inspiration I get. Thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
Everything in italics is supposed to be English.  
  
.............  
  
Mr. Yorkshire was back in his small room, at a hotel near the British embassy.  
  
He left the Kamiya dojo a little after lunch, a few hours after the short fight with Himura. He clarified a few more details with Saitou, and asked for his cooperation for a mission sometime the next day. He also left a note on the kitchen table. By then the Himuras were no longer there, but had moved their conversation and discussion to the bedroom.  
  
The note read as follows:  
  
"I went back to the hotel. I really have to remember those codes, so please forgive my sudden departure. In the meantime, here are a few instructions:  
  
"I understand Shinomori and Seta are coming over. Wait for them. When they arrive, inform them about the situation. Plan an attack on the warehouse and an extraction of the boy, either tonight or tomorrow. Coordinate with Saitou regarding police backup. I have enclosed the map and the diagram Misao has left with Saitou. Misao is the head of the operation. Not because I am partial to her, but because by now she is the one most informed about details.  
  
"Do not tell me your plans. Just do them. The less I know, the better. I only ask that you do nothing before I arrive there. As you have heard from Saitou, I have what they want. I will try to negotiate with our target. After that, do what you will. I leave it to your judgment when to attack and how.  
  
"One final thing. Do not let the parents be seen with weapons for as long as possible. It might be seen as a breach of confidence. I know I am asking a hard thing of two swordsmen, but it is necessary for ultimate success. The target knows that both of them are handy with a sword, so seeing them with swords might spell trouble for the boy. Have someone else carry their swords, until they can safely get them.  
  
"Send either parent to me when you are ready.  
  
"If I do not see her again, send Misao my love and my thanks. I am grateful that she came.  
  
"To all of you, I apologize for the inconvenience I have caused. I will try my best to repay your kindness.  
  
"Yukishiro Enishi."  
  
The rationale was this. Wu would be ready for an attack, planned and executed by his former boss. He knew his techniques; he made most of his strategies happen. But he would not know too well how Himura and his associates would attack. Thus, the former boss left Himura and his associates in charge. He knew Misao was a reliable ninja, and capable of handling the task.  
  
Besides, even if he were in charge of the operation, he did not know himself what he would do. He chose to concentrate on remembering what only he knew. In any case, it would be better that way. He knew what was coming to him. He would be killed, as soon as they got the codes from him. It would be wiser if he could manage to be killed alone.  
  
He reported for work at the embassy, but told his co-workers he would work on his pending translation projects at the hotel. He felt rather sick, and would be able to work more comfortably there.  
  
He did feel rather sick. The pressure of remembering and two full glasses of Bordeaux did not make a good combination. On the dining table was strewn sheets of white paper. He had filled most of them with pencil markings. Names, words, letters, and numbers. Most were not connected to each other, but he kept writing and writing them, in the hopes that he would make an association between any two.  
  
He poured himself another glass of the red wine, then returned to the table.  
  
The wine reminded him of some he was given by a white man, a few months ago, back in Shanghai. He was an American, some of the worst kind of white man, but he had something good to offer, and Enishi had to listen.  
  
"Here's the deal," the American began in very accented English, rather difficult to understand in French-British territory, "You've got a lot of good guns, bullets, and cannons in your portfolio right here. They're better than some of those things I've seen from France and Germany. I'm wiling to go the extra mile and ship your stuff over. Some fellas I know will be willing to pay big money to have one of the pistols I've seen here."  
  
"But are the white men willing to pay much for Chinese goods?" Enishi asked him then.  
  
"Hey, they already pay for opium, don't they? And a lot of those fancy ladies pay big dollars for those blue and white plates. Maybe to some of them I won't say that a couple of Chinamen made that gun they hold, but you'll still be paid handsomely for them."  
  
If only this annoying man would stop maligning the Chinese already. It was already bad enough that Chinese malign Japanese. Enishi had had to prove himself useful to the Shanghai mafia, the hard way.  
  
But with the offer the Yankee provided, Enishi considered the possibility of bringing down a large weapons trade to America. Why not? News coming from the Americas told of much violence in many areas. Maybe an insignificant Japanese businessman could make a small difference, and help end the cycle of wars he once helped to foster around Asia with his weapons.  
  
"The offer is good," Enishi had agreed, after reading through the man's documents. "We have a deal."  
  
The American then pumped his hand hard, and poured out a glass of red wine for each of them. "A toast, to a successful international connection."  
  
"Kampai," Enishi accepted.  
  
The white man handed him a small envelope.  
  
"Remember the codes inside, then burn the paper," he said with a knowing grin. "One of those numbers will make you the richest Chinaman in no time."  
  
"I am Japanese, sir," Enishi had replied with a little irritation.  
  
"Whatever," the man patted him hard on the back. "You'll be richer than you ever were, just wasting your time here. I happen to like you, young man. You could pass for a Yankee, with that look and that attitude. Don't waste it. There's plenty of good pickings in California, and there are a lot of good fights in New York. Your products will find a lot of eager customers."  
  
Enishi did consider it then. If he were still really and truly a mafia boss, he would have jumped at the offer. But the rich pickings of illegal trade no longer appealed to him. "You will hear from me sometime," was all he said.  
  
"Just give us a wire, will you, chap, when you decide to visit Miss Liberty. We'll get the best steak ready for you," the man gave him a final heavy slap on the back, and left his office.  
  
Enishi then opened the envelope. A long scrap of paper was inside, and contained two four-digit numbers, and what they meant.....that was it!  
  
Now he remembered those numbers, as clearly as when he first read them.  
  
It was such a shock that he found himself suddenly awake, with the papers scattered around him, and the early morning sun warming him through the window. He quickly wrote down the two numbers, and memorized them again. That done, he dragged himself to bed. He was not sure if he had slept, but he did not feel rested at all. He flopped himself over the covers, and shut his eyes.  
  
"Nee-san, wait for me, wherever you are. If things don't turn out well, I'll be joining you shortly. But before I do, I'll make sure that little Kenji is fine. That's how you would have wanted it, anyway, right, nee-san? See, I'll be helping Himura get his little boy back. For once, I have no idea what I'm going to do. I want all this craziness to end already. Don't get mad, nee-san, but I want to have a nice life with the weasel already, away from all this, away from bad memories. It must be the wine, but I'm ranting terribly, nee-san. Kaoru-san is quite right. You'll always be a part of me, nee-san, but I shouldn't let my thoughts of you run my life. Soon all this will be over, and I will be my own man, I promise. Just wait for me, nee-san, and see what happens, alright?"  
  
He then fell into dreamless, thoughtless sleep.  
  
He did not know how long he had slept, but eventually he heard someone knocking behind his hotel room door.  
  
"Mr. Yorkshire?"  
  
A woman.  
  
Judging from the sunlight through the open window, he had been asleep for only a few hours. It was probably midday already. Go away, weasel, he was inclined to say. Why won't you ever leave me alone? Why do you always get on my nerves? Why do you always manage to be there....just when you should be, not when I want you to be? Why do you always read my mind?  
  
I dunno how I do it, it just happens. Don't worry about it, silly boy! She answered in his head with a wink and a grin. Now go on and open the door, will you?  
  
The knocking persisted. He grumbled, and got out of bed. "No translations today!" he said in annoyed British English from inside. "Oh," wait, the woman sounded like a native. "I apologize. But no translations today," he repeated in foreigner-style Japanese.  
  
"Mr. Yorkshire, we are ready. We are only waiting for you," the woman knocked again.  
  
"I am not accepting new projects right now! Wait for me at the embassy!"  
  
The knocks stopped. He breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
But the voice spoke again. Softly, so only he can hear.  
  
"Enishi."  
  
What? So that could only be.....  
  
"It's Himura Kaoru, remember, Mr. Yorkshire? From several days ago? We are ready. We are only waiting for you. Kenji-kun...Kenji-kun is waiting for you." He heard soft sobs from behind the door.  
  
He quickly grabbed for a bathrobe and opened the door. He found the young woman in a well-worn yellow kimono, and the trails of tears across her face.  
  
"Stop, please, Kami------Himura-san," he begged in regular Japanese. "Stop worrying, Himura-san. We will get him back, today. Now go back to your husband. Tell them I am coming."  
  
"But...but....what if we don't......"  
  
He smiled, more like the way his brother-in-law would. "We will get him back, Himura-san. They will kill me first before they kill him. We will get him back, I swear. Now go."  
  
Yet she remained, and bowed her head. She said softly, "I apologize for shouting at you, Enishi. I wasn't thinking then..."  
  
"Don't apologize, Himura-san. We both needed that, your husband and I. Go."  
  
Finally, the woman smiled behind the tears. "May the gods be with you." She started to walk away.  
  
Enishi did not need divine intervention. The new confidence of his former enemies. The remembrance of the child who accepted him unconditionally. It was enough.  
  
He slipped into a faded brown Western suit, arranged his leather hat and glasses, and took his cane from behind a chair. He took a deep breath, and went on his way.  
  
................  
  
I'm pretty good with writing, but I'm hopeless with drawing. I draw childishly. ^^ Someday I'd really like someone to draw Enishi in a Western, pre-1900's suit, even if I know the image in my head. Anyways, thanks for reading this short chapter. Life is getting busy for me again, so I'll be away for a while. I'll see you all, eventually!  
  
Sabbie--I do hope you get a great announcement in March! Maeko-Nohara and Nanami -- I haven't done an FY fic yet, and I don't know FY that well to try. ^^ Thanks for loving the fic "with all your being", even if I really don't deserve it. Cat H -- I've had TOO much of being down in the dumps myself to flung Kenshin back into it. No original characters this time around from me. Spoilt brats understand each other, that's why uncle and nephew work out well. ^^ JML -- Thanks for the info about shinais and the "Yorkshire" stuff. kenni -- Thanks for all the compliments. Misao will get her limelight, eventually. 


	17. of rescuing and being rescued

Hello again. I apologize for the long, long delay. Many things came up, schoolwork and relationship problems being foremost. The thinking required for this chapter is equivalent to the one needed for White and Black's burning-building chapter. Unfortunately I didn't have the luxury of free time for imagination, like that time, for the last few months. I definitely don't grudge Midori now for her long lapses between chapters.  
  
Thank you to those folks who have me on their Author Alerts. I know how useful they are to you, especially with the likes of me. This is the next chappie. Hope you like. This one will be a bit long.  
  
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He walked slowly and deliberately. He had to be careful with his former second man. The man knew everything he could possibly know about him.  
  
In all likelihood, he would end up dead this time. Wu underestimated the effort it would take to kill him, the first time, the attack that made him lose most of his memory. Now Wu would get it right. The only reason he was kept alive this long was for those codes he knew. After he gave them, he would be killed. He knew that.  
  
But before he got himself killed, he would first make sure that Kenji was safe, and back with his parents. He promised himself that. Probably the only unselfish thing he would ever do in his life. He would do his best work on it.  
  
Many things had to be made right. He had to redeem himself for his many wrongs against a man who only tried to be kind to him. He had to regain the trust a courageous woman, wife of that kind man, gave to him. He had to finish this mission he took upon himself to complete. He had to prove himself an honorable man. He had to prove it to the boy, to his fiancée, to his brother-in-law, to his sister. To himself.  
  
As he neared the warehouse, he looked around. He noted many plainclothes policemen already in place, and he thought he saw the blue costume of the Tenken from behind a wall. A well-planned police busting operation, he smiled. He had seen the best and worst of them in his time. This was pretty good.  
  
He nonchalantly strolled onto the front gate of the warehouse. He cocked his thick glasses into place and leaned on his cane, then addressed the doorman in his best British English, "Good day, old chap. I have an appointment with your boss today, would you be so kind as to let me in?"  
  
The doorman scratched his head. Mr. Yorkshire thus repeated his greeting in halting, foreign Japanese. The doorman finally understood, and opened the door for him with many a bow.  
  
Lackeys were all the same, Enishi mused. Most Asians were the same. They crumble at the sights and sounds of a white man, of a Western language. They lose any common sense they might have had before seeing the white man. They would go great lengths to please them. They actually like to be servants to these giants. Not Yukishiro Enishi, not then, not now. White men were pompous, arrogant, spoiled ordinary men who needed to be taught their real place in Asia. They had no right to look down on Chinese or Japanese. Asians were as smart as them, and could be as powerful as them. These were the reasons he relished being mistaken for an Englishman for a time. He laughed to himself at how his countrymen groveled before him. He grinned at how the white men treated him differently, and actually, fairly.  
  
The doorman left him with another low-level man, who unwittingly gave him a tour of the facility, bowing profusely the whole time. So far Misao's diagram was accurate. He noted his potential escape routes and danger points. But he still had not seen where they kept Kenji, and they were already in the center of the warehouse. Despite the outward calm, he was getting nervous.  
  
He was about to ask about him, when he heard the voice of his former second man. His exasperated Chinese was getting nearer, obviously maligning the doorman.  
  
"YOU IMBECILE!! I told you we weren't expecting visitors until tomorrow! What if that man is from the police?"  
  
A door of a manager's office slammed shut, and a scrawny man in a black outfit appeared, with a face full of wrath. It immediately changed to a look of terror. The man had seen the British guest, and recognized the mafia boss.  
  
"Now, is that any way to welcome me, Wu?" Enishi uncovered his head and took off his glasses. "You look like you've seen a ghost."  
  
"Boss........." Wu fumbled, then coughed and regained composure. "How good of you to visit us yourself. I haven't seen you personally since that incident back home. Such a pity you were treated so unkindly." He paced before him with a grin. "You would be glad to know that I've fired those incompetents for not being thorough with you, back in Shanghai. And I know how you hate work that isn't thoroughly done."  
  
He was not in the mood to be sarcastic. "I want the boy. The redhead's son."  
  
Wu tsked. "You know, we weren't expecting you for another day or so, boss. So, I'm not sure if I'm ready to make a deal........"  
  
"Cut the crap. Where is the boy?"  
  
"My, my. Touchy today, aren't we, boss?" Wu grinned. "You can't just have your way now. I have the upper hand, and I intend to use it well. I have to get back some of the pride I lost from all those humiliations you let me have. I'll let you suffer for just a little while longer."  
  
He snapped a finger, and a large man walked out of the assembly. The screams and shouts of a little boy were heard from just behind the wall.  
  
"Isn't that the son of your sworn enemy? Why don't you let me continue your revenge on him? What better way to get back to that redhaired man than to let his son feel what you felt as a child? I can let the boy have the life you had. I'll teach him everything he needs to know about our 'business'. I'll make him rise in the ranks. Who knows? He might just be a better dragon head than even you were!"  
  
Enishi panicked and dropped all pretense. "If you as much as slap him- --"  
  
"Since when did you become so emotional about a hostage, boss?" Wu smiled with much malice, as the man returned with a squirming, wailing small boy.  
  
"KENJI!" Enishi stepped forward, and dashed toward the boy, when a guard stopped him.  
  
Kenji heard the voice, and suddenly stopped crying. "Eni-chan!" He began kicking and squirming harder. "Eni-chan! Eni-chan!"  
  
"Release the boy, NOW!" Enishi demanded.  
  
"But of course, I will, boss!" Wu folded his hands with confidence. "After you give me the code."  
  
Enishi haughtily bowed before him. "Very well. 1-1-6-2. Look for a certain Mr. O'Connor. Now release the boy."  
  
"Wait," Wu sharply said, and snapped a finger.  
  
Enishi was surrounded by armed and brawny men. He only raised an eyebrow.  
  
"You can't fool me, boss," Wu told him with a large smirk. "That was too easy. It's not the real code." He snapped again, and smiled at his henchmen. "Get the code out of him, and don't stop until you do."  
  
One lackey immediately landed a punch to his stomach, and another man hit him with nunchucks from behind. The others gave him successive punches and jabs. It was treatment restricted to low-level traitors and informants, short of killing them. They were too many and too fast for him to handle. Wu indeed knew how to prevent him, a feared street fighter and assassin as a teenager, from getting the upper hand. Soon his face was bruised and sore in three places. His brown suit was now torn and dirty.  
  
"Fine," he panted, on hands and knees, "have it your way. The code..........the code is..........0-2-6-2."  
  
"No other words or letters that go with it?" Wu asked matter-of-factly.  
  
"None." He dropped to the ground.  
  
"Good," the small man smiled again. "Your purpose to us is finished. It has been a, pleasure, working with you, boss." He gave a nod to a man beside him, who took out a pistol. "See you in the afterlife."  
  
"You never did the dirty work yourself," he smirked from the floor.  
  
But instead of a bang, he heard the swish of a sharp projectile and the falling of heavy steel onto the floor. In the next second, he found a kunai inches from his nose. Three more came raining down soon after.  
  
"Get your hands off him!" a woman shouted from above. "We have you surrounded! Surrender and come peacefully!"  
  
It could only be one woman. Enishi smiled.  
  
"Oh, YOU!" Wu laughed heartily, looking up. "YOU want me to surrender? Go back to your mother, little girl!"  
  
"One more word out of you, and this kunai hits your throat!" the woman threatened, as she stood over stacks of crates. Kunai filled all the spaces between her fingers, and her face showed full wrath.  
  
From just behind Wu, Enishi also noted the quick and silent arrival of Myoujin and Seta, who positioned themselves behind the burly man carrying the squirming Kenji. With a well-positioned chop to the neck Seta sent the man sprawling to the ground, as Myoujin scooped up the little boy. The other men, looking up at the ninja, had not noticed.  
  
"I would listen to that weasel, if I were you," Enishi rose from the floor, buying the young men time to get out. He took up the pistol from the floor and pointed it at Wu. "You don't want to get her mad. Believe me, I know."  
  
"The world is coming to an end!" Wu sneered. "The white tiger of Shanghai has stooped to a woman!"  
  
Enishi cocked the pistol.  
  
"I would have understood if a woman of the elite stole your heart, but this poor girl from the backside? Not only have you lost your soul, you've lost your sight, White Tiger!"  
  
He fired.  
  
A lackey shot at Enishi in response, as Wu dropped to his knees. Another guard opened fire both at him and Misao over the crates. He ran away from the shots, but was too slow and got hit again. Misao jumped onto the main floor of the warehouse.  
  
But Misao's movements had dislodged the crates from their places. The topmost crates quickly began to topple down. And one was headed straight for her head. Her back was turned, and she did not see them falling.  
  
"MISAO!"  
  
He leaped forward, dived toward the ninja, wrapped himself around her, as they both hit the ground. The boxes of metal continued to fall around them. He unceremoniously carried her, and jumped away from the avalanche. He continued to weave his way through the warehouse, ducking and dodging, more with her safety in mind than his.  
  
She yelled above the noise of the falling crates. "Are you crazy, Enishi?!"  
  
"People say so, weasel," he grinned over her face.  
  
She suddenly noticed that his clothes now had bloodstains around the right shoulder. And that the snow-white head had spots of red mixed in. Still he went on toward the gates. "Um, um, Enishi, you.......you could put me down now," she begged.  
  
"Shut up before I change my mind," he answered sternly. "Where is the little redhead?"  
  
In reply, a group of voices began to be heard just beyond the gate, yelling for them. "They're all just outside, thank goodness!" Misao happily answered.  
  
But in the next instant, a box knocked him down, and set them sprawling to the floor. He hit the ground head first, with Misao over him, unharmed.  
  
Misao quickly got up, but Enishi remained on the floor. "Come on, silly! We have to get out of here! Only a few more meters left!"  
  
His eyes slowly fluttered open. "What?" He looked dazed.  
  
"I'll take it from here, but we have to hurry!"  
  
"Huh?" he drawled, as his brows knit together. "Who.........are you? What..........just happened?"  
  
"No! Not now!" Misao exclaimed, as wood and metal continued to fall around them. "I'm Misao, I'll explain everything later, but we have to get out!"  
  
"Misao?" He looked at her intently for a few seconds, then smiled faintly. "Oh, the weasel! Get out of here and save yourself. No one will miss me."  
  
"WHAT?!" the woman exclaimed, then gave him a fast and hard slap. "Get a hold of yourself! I won't let you die here, and Kenji will cry his eyes out if you don't come back with me." She positioned herself below him, and heaved him up. "Now let's go!"  
  
"Crazy weasel," he muttered, as he raised himself, slung over her back. But he felt himself moving in and out of consciousness. "Yell..........yell for Seta, your Aoshi-sama..........don't care who............you can't carry me out............." he told her. "Silly girl..........."  
  
It blurred all around him.  
  
Colors came and went over his eyes. Red, blue, black, and everything in between. He did not even know if he was dreaming, hallucinating, or really seeing things. He thought he heard everybody from above him, one at a time, from Saitou to Yahiko. He heard snatches of words over him. Something about bullet wounds, something about his head, something about surgery, something about being alive when he should be dead – people STILL did not believe he could be this tough. Besides, didn't he have a good guardian angel in his sister?  
  
Where was everybody? He felt in front of him, but his hands met nothing. He still had trouble seeing beyond the haze. How long had he been like this, he did not know. All he knew now was that he was lying down, his right arm was awfully sore, and..........he did not know what happened to Kenji. What happened? Was he alive? Was he alright? Was he..........was he.................."KENJI--- ----!"  
  
"Take it easy, Enishi!"  
  
He was held firmly at the left shoulder. The haze slowly cleared, and he made out the features of Himura Kenshin. He looked around carefully. He noted hospital beds as far as he can see to the left and right of him, and he was sitting up in one of them.  
  
"The doctors said you just need rest, and your shoulder will heal nicely. The same is true of the gash on your head."  
  
He still did not understand. "Where is he? Where is she? Where are they? Where am I?"  
  
"One at a time, one at a time," Himura lowered him back to the bed. "Kenji will be back shortly with his mother. He is very fine."  
  
The uncle gave out a deep sigh of relief, then he remembered. "But what about----"  
  
"Misao is also fine. We had to force her to go back to the dojo and sleep for a while. She did not want to leave you."  
  
Alright, that was settled, but how did he manage to land back into the hospital?  
  
"You lost consciousness, while you were slung over Misao-dono. You had lost a lot of blood. From inside the warehouse, Aoshi carried you outside. Saitou had a police wagon ready, so we used that to bring you here. The bullets were taken out of you two days ago. At the same time the gash to your head was also closed up. They doctors kept you here for observation. Most people would have died from the injuries you sustained, and the time it took to bring you here. They cannot believe you are still alive."  
  
Enishi smirked. "I have been called a white devil when I was younger. I guess it's true that demons never die."  
  
Kenshin then added, "One thing does bother me, though. Wu Heishin escaped."  
  
Enishi only waved it off. "He's probably been booked already, but that chimney of a police officer hasn't told you."  
  
"I do not understand."  
  
"Government lackey," he tossed his snowy head at the redhead. "And one who doesn't know how organized crime works. You wouldn't last a day in my world, sword skills or not." He folded his arms and grinned. "There were two numbers that I gave him. The first, the one he ignored, was the true one, the one for access to the traders. The second code I gave that fool is the wrong code. Since he had to hurt me to get it, he thought he now has the real code. A buy-bust operation is waiting for him; I had Saitou arrange that. If he manages to get to the real contact anyway, the code he has are orders to abort the exchange, and not to trade with him. If the Americans don't kill him for that, the organization in Shanghai will. Either way, through Saitou or through me, his career is over. My work is done."  
  
Kenshin nodded. "Very smart of you."  
  
"I know."  
  
The brother-in-law sweatdropped, then smiled and bowed low. "Yukishiro Enishi, I owe you the life of my son. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you. My wife thanks you. Domo arigatou gozarimashita."  
  
"A.........Ah.........um," the poor young man had never been thanked sincerely in his entire life! He had no sarcastic comment for it. He could only mutter the standard reply. "Dou itashimashite."  
  
"Your sister would have been proud of you."  
  
"My sister met a good man."  
  
....................................  
  
Thanks to the reviewers of the last chapter. Muchos gracias to jbramx2 for reminding me that it has been two months since I last released a chapter. ^^;; Thanks to those folks who liked the inner dialogue, and to those who liked the E/K interaction, and generally to everybody who left a review. You really make a person's day. My sincere thanks to those who read this chapter after the long delay. Summer's around the corner, so I'll be stepping up the pace soon. I'll see ya! 


	18. of ramen and relationships

This is my third, yes, count it, the third, version of the ending to Taming a Tiger. Yes, Taming a Tiger is winding down already, and I've already tried to make two endings. Neither of which really pleased me much, after they were done. ARGH!! Anyhow, I hope how you like the sequence of events in this chapter and the succeeding ones.  
  
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"Aunt 'Sao very nice," Kenji told his uncle, two days after the mission.  
  
"Don't tell me; she gave you a new ball again, didn't she?" Enishi chuckled and ruffled Kenji's hair. The boy gave him a nod and a very happy smile, as he sat on his lap.  
  
By now, all of his memories were already back and intact. The doctors gave him a final check, and released him, smiling to the ends of their ears, in eager expectation of academic acclaim in a few months time. Medical accomplishment did not matter much to him as the patient, however. He indulged them their documentation and pictures, signed their contracts, and went on his way. But this time, there was no article about his clean bill of health. The media thought it was not worth the coverage. At least, not after the spectacular arrest of an international weapons dealer by a handful of civilians.  
  
The newspapers did not get much out of the civilians, however. The police gave the official statement, and would not divulge the identities of the civilians involved in such an incredible mission. It was just as well. Shinomori was not talkative to begin with. Seta only smiled at shopkeepers who asked about it. The Himuras had had enough incredible things happen to them to be ecstatic about this one.  
  
And Misao, she only had her approaching wedding in mind. The whole Himura household knew it. Even as Aoshi and Soujirou returned to Kyoto, she stayed in Tokyo. Never again would she lose sight of her unpredictable fiancée.  
  
"Aunt 'Sao like Eni-chan a lot!" Kenji continued.  
  
"I bet she does," he replied nonchalantly.  
  
But Kenji looked him into his blue-gray eyes and asked. "Does Eni- chan like Aunt 'Sao, too?"  
  
He was surprised, but answered. "Yes, Kenji. I like Aunt Misao. I love her." It was odd coming from him, but it was true.  
  
"Like Uncle Yahiko love Miss Tsubame?"  
  
"I guess so." Enishi had indeed seen Yahiko a lot with a certain young lady named Tsubame. He would not grudge the young man's attention to her.  
  
Kenji clapped his hands together and looked up at his uncle. "Eni- chan marry Aunt 'Sao, right, Eni-chan?"  
  
He stopped.  
  
Put so plainly, it was a simple matter. Enishi will marry Misao. If only things were so simple with everybody else. If only things were so simple between them.  
  
"Right, Eni-chan?"  
  
He could not answer.  
  
Almost everything was set. All that remained was the ceremony. But he suddenly found himself faltering. He, who rarely faltered. He needed time to think about his final answer, to Kenji's simple question.  
  
He took the boy into his arms, and lowered him to the ground. He smiled at him. "I am sorry, my little friend, but I have to go. Just tell Aunt Misao I left, alright? And tell your mommy not to worry about me; I will just be around Tokyo if she needs me. I have to go now."  
  
He ruffled Kenji's hair one last time, tossed him his ball, and walked out of the dojo.  
  
The memories arranged themselves in his head and slowly flashed before him, in order. The good times and the bad. Friends and enemies. Misery and joy. The terror he had seen, the sadness he had felt, and the pleasures he had encountered.  
  
Finally, he recalled the memories he had with the woman he fondly called a weasel. He called her that, mostly just to spite her. He knew that the nickname always drew a reaction from her. It was a silly treat for him just to see her lose emotional control. A constant reminder to him, how this woman was different. She was unlike the world he was familiar with, unlike the people he knew, unlike the enemies he faced. He wanted to remain in her world, and be a part of it.  
  
The days and nights just came and went with him.  
  
He would eat a humble breakfast, then walk the streets and alleys as he thought about many things. He would end the day by stopping at a bridge, and watching the sun go down slowly to meet the river. He would wonder if SHE was seeing the beautiful sunset as well.  
  
But as the sun sank lower, so would his head. What if she was marrying him out of pity, after all? What if she did not truly love him, but only liked him as a friend? What if she would not marry him, in the end? After all, did she seriously want to marry a former mafia boss, a criminal from the first? Did she know enough about the vindictive boy who became a revenge-seeking man, to give her life to him?  
  
What if old members of the mafia still came to kill him? Could he uproot her from Kyoto, so they might both have a peaceful life? Would she actually like living the rich life? Would she be overwhelmed? Would she feel awkward?  
  
More practical matters also surfaced to be considered. Nasty rumors had been circulating in Kyoto before he left, regarding his engagement. Who was this woman, his fiancée? To the influential social circles, she could well be a peasant girl. She was not suited to be the wife of a powerful eligible bachelor. She was a commoner, a girl who dared to walk the streets of Kyoto wearing clothes that fully revealed her legs. Slighted mother-in-laws fanned themselves and whispered. She was probably his concubine; she was definitely not a geisha. Otherwise, he probably got the girl pregnant, and now the girl demanded him to take responsibility. In any case, the girl did not really have affection toward the white-haired oddity; she only wanted his money.  
  
In the area around the Aioya, tongues were also wagging. Why was Misao marrying a man she barely knew? Nobody knew much about this man, and what a few of them did know was not favorable. Why did she not marry within the Oni? Why was she marrying this fly-by-night businessman? True, he had done a lot to provide jobs for the immediate vicinity, but he was too new to be trusted with one of their women. Much less, a woman raised among them, a woman who was their favorite. A woman, capable of managing the Oniwabanshuu! Was she, contrary to her nature, after his money?  
  
It was not about money! It was not about bastard children! Pardieu!  
  
But was it worth evading all of the gossip to continue a match nobody approved?  
  
The ultimate question stood.  
  
Should he marry Makimachi Misao?  
  
It was not a question of love. He loved her, truly. But marrying her was another matter. He did not know if he could.  
  
Such were his musings, at the middle of a bridge, watching the sunset.  
  
............................................  
  
"Eni-chan gone," Kenji told her as soon as he saw her at the dojo gate.  
  
"Gone?! Not again!" she kneeled and held the boy by the shoulders. "Did he say where he was going?"  
  
Kenji shook his head slowly.  
  
Misao held her head and sighed. "Can you at least tell Aunt Misao where he went?" She pointed left and right. "This way or that way, Kenji- kun?"  
  
"Eni-chan went that way," he smiled, and pointed to the right.  
  
"Thanks, little dear," she kissed him and ruffled his hair. "Now I have to get back that annoying Eni-chan of yours.........."  
  
She ran the entire length of the street Kenji pointed to him, to no avail. Of course, she realized that he could have turned a corner at any of the side streets. She did it mostly to clear the worried thoughts in her head. What if he did this after they were married?  
  
Actually, that was not her chief concern. This was her chief concern: WOULD they even be married at all?  
  
What if all of these adventures were just his way of avoiding it? Wasn't she making a mistake in choosing him over her Aoshi-sama? Wouldn't she regret this in the end? No, no, NO!  
  
She began to ask around for a man with impeccable clothes and white hair. And she found many eager witnesses. He had a memorable way about him. His bearing was regal, his face was handsome, his eyes were penetrating but not invasive. Sure, the townsfolk remembered him.  
  
Nonetheless, the annoying white-haired man covered his tracks pretty well. Most of her leads gave her dead ends. Everyone remembered some different thing about him. They were all only consistent in the fact that he only asked for directions. Otherwise, he did not talk to anyone. Three days of scouring all of the city of Tokyo, and still she had not seen him.  
  
She eventually found someone who told her, that he stayed at a small inn not far away. She thanked the man with a bow, and started walking again.  
  
"Oh, and little miss," the man interrupted her bound away, "seems like that fellow has a lot on his mind. You sure you want to see him?"  
  
"Positive," she smiled, and waved goodbye.  
  
After a couple more hours more of walking, she finally found him, at the middle of a bridge, looking down on the water passing under it.  
  
"Alright, what in the world is the matter with you, my silly fiancée?" She paced back and forth behind him, and asked with exasperation. "Three days! Three days you've been missing! Three days I've been looking for you!" She looked him up and down. "Well, at least I'm sure you do have a place to go back to. You're clean and white. You're the type who wouldn't last long without access to a bathhouse and water. But still, you should've told----------"  
  
"Shut up, weasel," he muttered without moving.  
  
"I will NOT shut up!" she answered. "I've been worried sick for the last three days. I didn't know if you've gotten sick, drunk, killed! That is NO way to treat a woman, much less your wife!"  
  
"My wife?" he chuckled bitterly. "You?"  
  
"Well, soon to be your wife, at least," she grinned. "One year of waiting while you were in China, half a year of waiting for you to get back to normal, one month of preparing a house and a banquet. NOW you are backing out?!" She angrily placed her hands over her waist. "Are you out of your crazy mind, Enishi?"  
  
"Somewhat," he said quietly. "I have been thinking, that's all." He finally turned around and smiled at her, as his hair blew in the evening breeze.  
  
"Three days?! You've just been thinking, for three DAYS?!"  
  
"Something wrong with thinking, Misao?" he smirked. "I had plenty to think about." He frowned as he looked at her.  
  
Misao leaned beside him on the bridge and looked up at the tall white tower. "Care to tell me?"  
  
"It will take another three days," he patted the top of her head. He then sighed, and offered his hand to her. "I am staying at a small inn nearby. They have excellent ramen and sake. That's what I have been living on. If you want to talk, we might as well do it there."  
  
He led her across cobbled little streets into a respectable but unassuming inn. It was not full, but it had a decent number of guests that kept the waiter and cook busy. He motioned her to a table.  
  
She noticed that, while he kept smiling at her, the sadness in his eyes never left. Whatever he was thinking about for three long days, it was still weighing down on him, and made him seem older than his twenty-nine years. He ordered a bowl of ramen for each of them, and...........and.............finally he ordered tea, after a long and uneasy stare at her reproving eyes.  
  
They both ate in silence for a while. She was both glad and worried. She was happy to be sitting opposite him, seeing again his handsome face and his deep turquoise eyes. But those same turquoise eyes worried her. Something in those eyes gave her an idea of what he was thinking.  
  
Was she, indeed, worthy of those eyes?  
  
She had an idea of what he worried about. She was too nice, too kind, in his opinion. She was not suited to be the wife of a former criminal. On her part, she did not feel worthy, either. Wasn't he too smart, too cultured, too mature, for her? As she gazed at the sullen eyes, peering at her as he raised the ramen bowl to his lips, she felt the overpowering strength of the man before her. Why her? Out of all the prettier girls in Kyoto, Tokyo, and Shanghai, why her? What did he see in her?  
  
"Stop staring, Misao," he said as he lowered the bowl.  
  
"Sorry," she shyly looked down on the table.  
  
Another long pause.  
  
"Misao."  
  
"Yes?" she asked without taking her eyes off the table.  
  
"Misao."  
  
"What do you want?" She slowly brought back her gaze to his eyes.  
  
"Misao, I.......I..........I........."  
  
She pounded a fist on the table, and spoke with irritation. "Look, you are really scaring me now. In my experience, you do not call me 'Misao' three times in a row. Either you call me a weasel in the next instant, or I will give you a solid punch through the jaw." She then grinned and waved her chopsticks at him. "Whatever it is you have in your head that's bothering you, out with it, right now."  
  
"Misao, could you listen please to a LONG story?" he smiled sadly at her. "It's about this pompous, arrogant, conceited baka.........."  
  
"Do I have to?" she pouted. "I know what I have to know about you."  
  
"It's better you know everything now, while you can still change your mind about marrying me. Besides, I need someone who knows the whole details of my life, so the next time someone hits me on the head I won't have to bother so many people."  
  
"I won't change my mind!" she declared. "But if it makes you happy, let's have that history."  
  
"You'll hate me when I'm through."  
  
"Let's have it, and then we'll see," she sat herself comfortably.  
  
"Very well."  
  
He told her everything. He held nothing back. When he finished, there were facts that only she knew for certain, facts that were vaguely reported in police files, facts that even Battousai did not know. As a trained ninja, she was used to hearing about murders and conspiracies. But nothing prepared her for his life in the lowest districts of the most notorious city in China. Her face, stuck in shock, told him so.  
  
"You have finally met Yukishiro Enishi," he concluded with lowered head. "Little brat, selfish boy, heartless fiend, clever thief, merciless leader, ruthless killer. A wild, restless, and dangerous tiger."  
  
She remained silent for a long time, alternately looking at the floor and at him.  
  
Finally she answered.  
  
"But a tiger can be tamed."  
  
...................................  
  
This came fast, because this chapter was in the works for quite a while, during the time I was stuck about chapter 17. Thanks for reading.  
  
Answers to reviews starting from chapter 16:  
  
Sabbie -- Right now I'm in finals season. I'm studying in the library to minimize the temptation to either fix a website or type fic. ^^  
  
Maeko-Nohara -- I've seen majority of FY anime, but I guess I'm still not too confident to jump in and do it, I don't know it too well.  
  
JML -- Thanks for liking the monologues! Yeah, I know about the mafia vs. triad thing, don't worry. As for writer's block, it has helped me to type out what is currently in my head, even if incomplete, then to come back to it when I have more to add. Hope it helps.  
  
jbramx2 -- Thanks for liking Saitou. ^^ I've seen the E/M picture you drew, it was so, so, sweet...... muchos gracias. Thanks for the succession of reviews, you got me back on track.  
  
Devil1 -- Thanks much!  
  
CatH -- No, no. Enishi was in Shanghai meeting an American. About the Asian and white men thing, that's me speaking as my boyfriend. ^^ Because it IS true that we kowtow to Caucasians WAY too much!! As for rescuing Enishi, that's why I eventually had Aoshi come over to help.  
  
scorpion05 -- As you can see from this chapter, your expected marriage should be coming soon enough. ^^ Yeah, E/M is rare since everybody assumes A/M is a sacrilege to break. I don't think so. K/K IS sacrilege to break, in my opinion. ^^ Check White and Black, the story before this one, if you'd like more. 


	19. of Paris and Kyoto

Second to the last chapter. I'm already on vacation, yay! I haven't been visible because I've been making and uploading websites, and I have been thinking how to really fix this chapter. Here are the links: (for a new, cerebral and angsty anime called Texhnolyze from the people who made Serial Experiments Lain) and (for my half of the Crouching Tiger Realm).  
  
I hope you like the appearance of one of the characters I haven't used in a while.  
  
...........................................  
  
"Are we FINALLY there yet?" Misao muttered, as she looked out from the deck.  
  
"Yes, we're finally here."  
  
She pouted. "And you used to do this several times in a year?!"  
  
He nodded. "It's quite enjoyable to travel, once you're used to it."  
  
"I never realized Paris could be this far away..........."  
  
They had finally reached the city of dreams. It was her first trip out of Japan, and her first real view of Europe. All she had seen before then were from imported pictures and stories. So far, the real thing wasn't so bad. But she truly did not expect Europe to be THIS far! Her legs were sweating inside the folds of her petticoat. Her head was getting scratchy under the bonnet. Yet she could not complain. She had been ecstatic when he said he was giving her a tour of Europe. She remembered, she teased him for being such a big spender, for always liking the high life she abhorred. He merely smirked.  
  
As they stepped off the ship, a Japanese servant greeted them warmly. The man, wearing usual Parisian attire, bowed to Misao with a smile. "Madame. Welcome to France."  
  
"Arigatou," she bowed as well. "I was afraid only my husband would speak my language here."  
  
Her husband. Despite all the preparation, all the adventures that happened, and all the traveling, it was still hard to get used to the notion. For the longest time, she had hoped the husband would be Shinomori Aoshi. She still did not know how it happened to be this way. She was now the wife of someone else. Not that she did not like being married to this man. Still, it was strange.  
  
He looked down at her worried face. "You don't like it? Do you want to go home and rest?"  
  
"Home?"  
  
"A rather small place, but it's where I stay whenever I'm here. Yoji maintains it the rest of the time." He looked at her again. Her face had not changed. "Something wrong?"  
  
She shook her head. "I miss everybody back home. Especially.........especially.........."  
  
"I understand." He took up her hand and patted it. "Yoji, get the carriage. We'd better get home first."  
  
Yoji bowed and complied.  
  
She knew the real reason why he wanted to get away from Japan. The Shanghai underworld was rattled to its foundations. A major weapons exchange link to America was ruined by the former White Tiger. There will be hell to pay.  
  
Also, all of Kyoto was still buzzing about the marriage of the handsome businessman and the girl the whole city helped raise. The city had known for months that it was coming; the couple had not exactly kept their relationship a secret from anybody. The most horrible of rumors were spreading like wildfire among people who were supposed to be Misao's townsfolk. Misao had been taken advantage of; Misao was pregnant; Misao just wanted to be a rich girl after all. Otherwise, Shiroyuki Shinichi was just one of those flashy rich men who would, when he grew tired of the Kyoto girl, abandon her with a child and move on to another. Word had also spilled onto the streets that Shiroyuki used to be a criminal and a murderer. Worse, tongues wagged in speculation about what the Oniwabanshuu okashira did to Misao, for her to reject him. Had he abused her, hurt her, maligned her?  
  
Only their friends at the Aioya knew and believed the truth. Thus, in the Aioya, surrounded only by close friends and the nearest business associates, a small but lavish wedding was conducted. A very traditional wedding it was, officiated by the head priest of the temple where Tomoe's diary was kept. No expense was spared, in that the best food was laid out for the few that were there, and the best wedding attire enveloped the petite young woman being wed. Nonetheless, the wedding was not extravagant.  
  
And two days after the wedding, they were boarding a ship.  
  
Enishi found it hard to believe, but Misao was quiet for most of the trip, especially on the trains. She was acting like a true ninja, assessing the new terrain with eyes and ears wide open, mouth silent. Every so often the young woman tugged at his sleeve and asked what this and that was. Being satisfied with an answer, she would be silent again.  
  
The windows of the British Orient Express presented a lot for Misao to see. With each new country under the Crown came a new environment, new plants and animals, and new people. Enishi had seen this all before, and was not affected. But to Misao, it was all new and exciting.  
  
And somewhat overwhelming.  
  
This was especially because Misao knew only Japanese. She had managed to pick up stray French and English words from Enishi, but she still could not understand either language, and could not read it at all. Many times the well-traveled businessman tried to explain and translate the words, and most times it was sufficient. But once in a while she would interrupt him with an embarrassed grin, and say, "Never mind, 'Nishi."  
  
"Where are the chopsticks, Enishi?" she asked at their first dinner in Paris. "I can understand it on the trains and on the ship, but this is a house. Have mercy."  
  
"Sorry," he smirked. "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."  
  
Misao frowned. "I don't know if I can do this any longer."  
  
Enishi called for Yoji, and told him to serve dinner, as Misao sulked. Enishi tossed his head at her. "You can't always have your way. It's even worse here in the world of the white man. They have no real respect for Asians. You have to gain it out of them. Remember that. This is not Kyoto, and you're no master here."  
  
"I know. How well do I know," she whispered. In all the stops she had seen the snobbish looks on both men and women, most especially on the Caucasians.  
  
"But we're all tired, so I won't force it tonight." He tossed her a small lengthwise lacquer box.  
  
Misao opened it and took out her traveling chopsticks, as Yoji laid miso, green tea, rice, and sukiyaki on the table.  
  
Over the next few days Enishi toured her around Paris. They visited the Louvre, the Bastille, and the other famous places. He took her to the area where boutiques could be found, and helped her pick out a few new dresses.  
  
But in Paris as in Kyoto, Misao cared most for the woods just outside the city. Her husband, a man of the city, did not fully understand what she appreciated in the woods, but was happy that she was happy.  
  
"But they don't have cherry trees here, do they, 'Nishi?" she once asked.  
  
He shook his head. "Cherry trees of a different type. There are no sakura here."  
  
She smiled weakly. "That's alright."  
  
And so it was, for the next few weeks. They also traveled to the towns and provinces just outside the capital. She loved the sights and sounds of France. It had a homey feeling to it, a feeling that almost everyone was a friend to everyone else. Much like, back home.  
  
It was alright, whenever she saw something new and something intriguing. But when evening came, and she was alone, her mind would travel back to her home many miles away. Alone, as she stared at the moon, she would weep.  
  
But she did not let him see her sad. She did not want him to regret that he brought her to Paris. She was just homesick, that's all! It was nobody else's problem.  
  
She thought thus, as she brought in the tea for Enishi and an associate of his, who came to the house for a visit.  
  
"Look, Yukishiro, I am quite aware of your delicate situation staying in Japan," his associate said. "What is stopping you from controlling your business from here? Trans-pacific and transatlantic communication is improving every year. You can just go back to Kyoto once a year, just to make sure everything is fine. But you can stay here."  
  
Enishi thought about it. He was not abject to staying in Paris; the weather was much like the weather in Japan most of the year. With his height and build, not to mention his silver hair, mingling in the city was rather easy. And the man was right. Nobody knew about his past here. Japanese acquaintances knew him as a businessman, and nothing else. If the triads chose to hunt him down, all of Europe was a large place to hide in.  
  
"Of course, you would keep your lovely wife here, for her safety," the man continued. "She is quite intelligent; she will not have much trouble mastering French............"  
  
But he turned his eyes to the door, and saw Misao standing with a tray. Her face was pale and blank. "We're...........we're...........staying here?" she mumbled.  
  
Then she blushed and hastily brought the tray to the table and served the men. She bowed to the associate. "Sorry about that. I was just..........thinking..............you know." She then gave a forced smile. "Of course, whatever Enishi thinks is best, I'm all for that." She took up the tray, bowed, and exited quickly.  
  
She needed to get out, and talk to the trees and the birds. Any specie of flora or fauna would do, just as long as she did, the way she talked to the birds and the trees back home. Back home. The nearest source of flora and fauna was the city park, so she walked there, her usual Japanese sandals on her feet. She figured it would not matter, under such long and uncomfortable clothes. She found a bench to sit on, and began to quietly weep.  
  
A little sparrow soon found company with her, and perched on the backrest of the bench. "I know you probably don't understand Japanese, but I'm glad you're here," Misao told the bird. "Ever felt alone in this big fancy city, little bird? Ever feel that you don't belong here? Ever wanted to go home, to your real home?"  
  
"Why don't you talk to a human being, instead, jo-chan?" a male voice asked from above her, in Japanese. "At least I can understand what you're saying. Nipponia, Banzai!"  
  
She looked up, and saw a muscular young man, also with black hair, sticking out high over his head. He was quite tall, and had a carefree grin on his face. Despite the workman's clothes the young man wore, the personality and the attitude were quite familiar with her.  
  
"Sano? Sagara Sanosuke?!"  
  
"Hey, it's the weasel!" He gave her a bear hug. "I didn't know you in those pretty clothes!" He allowed her to sweatdrop, then asked. "How did you get here?"  
  
"I came with the white-haired baka," she grinned.  
  
"Whoa! The white-hair's being nice! That's a mean treat he's giving you!"  
  
"Hai. He says Americans call it a 'honeymoon'. A treat...........for a newly-married couple."  
  
"I see."  
  
It took a while to sink in. But when it did, he went ballistic. "YOU are MARRIED to YUKISHIRO ENISHI?!"  
  
"Hai."  
  
"How in the world did THAT happen?!"  
  
"Long story." She then took him by the hand and tugged him to sit on the bench. "I have time on my hands, and I think, so do you. Shall I give you the story?"  
  
"I wanna know how he BRAINWASHED you to marrying him!" he eagerly. "Spill!"  
  
And spill she did, about everything. How they met, how they were engaged, and the problems regaining his memory. She even told him about their trip. He told her story upon story of his adventures around the world as well. He was currently a porter at one of the cheaper hotels, managed to pick up the most essential of French, and got by daily. He had been in Paris for over a month, and had found comrades both among whites and among fellow Japanese. What he did not earn by carrying hauls, he won in street fights.  
  
It helped Misao a lot to find someone she knew from back home, someone who was not her husband. Now she was sure that all had not been a dream. Someone from back home knew who she was, and talked to her about who she was.  
  
"Oi, ever felt lonely while you were traveling around?" Misao asked him finally, walking back from the park to the Champs Elysee.  
  
"Sure, plenty of times!" he answered. "Tell ya a secret, little weasel."  
  
She smiled and nodded.  
  
"Tae's sukiyaki. Nothing like it in all the world. Someday I'm going back to it."  
  
She laughed. "I don't get it."  
  
"Don't sulk that your friends aren't here. Just tell yourself that you're coming back to them someday, especially to that Aoshi-sama of yours.............speaking of which, what happened to Aoshi?"  
  
"But I just told you! I'm here with Eni------"  
  
And speaking of Enishi, the snowhaired man was walking also on the Champs Elysee, toward them.  
  
"Sacre bleuí, where have you been, Madame?" He spoke with an irritated tone. However, his shoes and his leather cap were rather dusty. "I have been looking for you!"  
  
"So it IS true!" Sanosuke exclaimed. "You ARE here with the white- haired freak!"  
  
"Sano!" Misao reproved.  
  
He grabbed Enishi by the collar and raised him inches off the ground. "I don't know what your insane mind did to Misao, but I swear on the captain's head I WILL undo it. Now TALK! What did you do to Aoshi? How did you kill that ice block?"  
  
The noise he raised stopped pedestrian traffic across the Champs Elysee, and sent several policemen to the scene. Soon the three were surrounded by scandalized Frenchmen and uniformed officers.  
  
"Put me down and let me handle this," Enishi ordered with much calm. Sanosuke dropped him unceremoniously, and watched him brush his coat. He then listened as the white haired man conversed with the gendarmes in French. He raised both eyebrows as the gendarmes tipped their hats to Enishi and went on their way.  
  
"What did you tell them?" Sanosuke asked.  
  
"That you were insane," Enishi smirked.  
  
Sanosuke darted for his collar again, but Enishi raised his finger and pointed to the departing gendarmes with a smile. Sanosuke stopped and grumbled.  
  
"Shinomori was very alive when we left Tokyo. It is by Misao's choice that she is my wife. Even if you don't believe me, that's the truth. Are we clear?" He then motioned to Misao, and with her, began to walk away from him.  
  
Sanosuke folded his arms, but nodded. "Hey, tell me something, Enishi. Why?"  
  
Enishi looked back. "Why, what?"  
  
Sanosuke shrugged. "I dunno. Kenshin, Kaoru, even Kenji, and Misao. Come on, we're common folk. I'm just an ordinary loafer giving the wide world a stroll. What did you ever see in us poor guys?"  
  
Enishi thought it over. He thought about all of them. Himura, Kamiya, Kenji, Myoujin, Seta, Shinomori. Misao. Something about all of them drew him to them. It was something Himura had in those people that surrounded him. It was something in Himura himself.  
  
He recalled the time, roughly a year ago. He had recovered enough from the attack that he could walk around, but did not remember anything. He could only remember one thing, one name. The name that consumed his being for so long it was more a part of him than his own name.  
  
Nonetheless, Himura showed him understanding and respect. Even when he began to remember things again, even when he finally recalled everything about the man. He had the most reason to kill him, but he did not. Instead, he treated him well. And so did his friends.  
  
It was the same with Misao. She gave him a chance to prove himself, regardless of his past. She opened her heart to him when he did not deserve it. She accepted him without question.  
  
It was definitely something they all had, that drew him to them.  
  
"Love." He answered slowly, as he cocked back his purple glasses. "That is what I saw in your little group. Unselfish, unwavering love." He gave Sanosuke a final glance. "I have contacts in Paris, Marseilles, and London if you need them. Au revoir."  
  
"Hey, white hair!" Sanosuke called out. "Take good care of that weasel, alright? And give my regards to everyone back home!"  
  
"I'll tell them you're still a freeloader," he replied.  
  
Misao waved back at Sanosuke. "I had a great time! Come visit us while we're here!"  
  
"I'll come by for dinner!" Sanosuke called back.  
  
"I was right. You ARE still a freeloader!" Enishi returned with a smirk.  
  
"You'll pay for that remark!" the rooster-head retorted, but waved back and walked away.  
  
On the way back to the house, Misao was very quiet. She was still quiet when they got home. She immediately went to the bedroom. She took off the frock. She put on her black uniform and braided her hair the usual way. It was as the usual Oniwabanshuu ninja that Enishi, still in his Western clothes, found her.  
  
"Why...............what is the meaning of this?"  
  
"I packed it," she grinned. "Don't worry, I'll stay here, but if I didn't wear this I just might go insane. At least, I can be me, wearing this. I'll be the Misao you got to know. Right?"  
  
"But, 'Sao...........I........."  
  
"I'm never your Misao when I wear those itchy petticoats and uncomfortable shoes and annoying bonnets. I'm just a foreign girl, trying to fit in where I don't. And.................and..................I don't want to do that all my life.....................Enishi."  
  
"But, Misao..........."  
  
"And I don't think you want to play as a white man for any length of time, either," she continued. "You want to be your own man, too. Not this man who speaks French but is not a Frenchman, forced to kowtow to Frenchmen and Americans and............and.........Englishmen, yes, that's what they're called."  
  
She looked well at Enishi, and found that he was quite floored. His mouth stayed open in mid-statement. She suddenly wanted to take back everything she said. "Sorry, my dear. France is nice and all. Paris is really beautiful. I'm glad you brought me here, really and truly. But........but............"  
  
"But you couldn't bring yourself to stay here and leave everybody back home for good," he completed.  
  
"Yeah, something like that."  
  
"Pesky little weasel," he smiled. He tossed a small piece of paper to her.  
  
She tried to read it, but it was all in Roman letters, so she shook her head.  
  
"Telegraph from Japan, from Saitou," he explained. "My previous organization has been taken down for good. We can go home."  
  
Misao's eyes lit up, but then she remembered. "But what about.....your associate......?"  
  
"Oh, that," he brushed it off. "I have been seeing you look odd the last few days. And you did tell me more than once that you've missed the people back home. So after you left the house today and met Sagara, I made other arrangements. With Wu permanently out of the way, I can work from the base of operations. My friend can manage imports from here. There are many ways to ensure that nothing goes wrong with the imports."  
  
She did not know what to say. So she hugged him instead.  
  
"You're..............welcome," he answered.  
  
She released him to clap her hands and beam at him. "So, when do we start buying souvenirs?"  
  
If it was possible for Yukishiro Enishi to sweatdrop, it just happened.  
  
.........................................  
  
Thank you for waiting for this chapter. Shucks, such a long chapter! Hope you liked it. Um, I do realize most of you were expecting descriptions of a wedding. But because I am absolutely clueless about Japanese weddings, I didn't want to dare write something I don't know about. So it turned out this way.  
  
JML – Yeah, I got your points, but now it's too late to change uncle Yahiko into a big brother. ^^  
  
Maeko-Nohara – As for Eni-chan saying Misao 3 times, that's why I made Misao say that, there's something dreadfully wrong with the guy. ^_^ Thanks again!  
  
Cat H – I mean, I've been to circuses. I guess when they're big, tigers are impossible to train, you're right. But they are not hopeless cases.  
  
Scorpion05 – oh, he does! Thanks for reviewing!  
  
Sabbie – Oh, poor you. That's OK, take your time. Life hasn't been good for either of our fanfiction. Hope you do well in school!  
  
Jbramx2 – Like your pics, especially the poster-like thing for WTJC. ^^ Thanks for all the support. I'll try to find that fic you mentioned, and will read it. As for Misao, she's like that, emotions don't last long with her, unless she's really affected. 


	20. of endings and beginnings

Ladies and gentlemen, we have finally reached the end of our tale. I probably won't be writing E/M for a while after this. Heck, I probably won't be writing much of anything unrelated to school after this summer. Fire and Magic still isn't done, so I will continue the E/M that's presently there.  

Thanks to all of you who read my work and survived the inconsistency of my production rate.  Thanks to everybody who commented on the occasional character inconsistency, and helped me keep in line.  Thanks for believing in an alternate pairing and reading it.  Again, I don't hate Aoshi. I really think he's pretty cool, and very handsome. I just don't think he's right for a girl like Misao.  ^^  

…………………………………………

                It was one of those days.  One of those normal, average weekends. No day could be as normal.  

                To someone like Yukishiro Enishi, that was highly unusual.  

                A whole Saturday with absolutely nothing to do was an unprecedented event. Nobody needed him, nothing was needed at the factory, even his wife did not need him. He had absolutely nothing to do, and nothing to think about.  

                Life in Kyoto for him had assumed a state of routine. He was back to being manager of his increasingly prosperous business. In the mornings he met clients, in the afternoons he finished the paperwork. In the evenings he read his books, in one of several languages. Sometimes he even read aloud to his bubbly little wife. 

                As for the bubbly little wife, she had found a new niche for herself in his life. Of course, she regularly visited her friends at the Aioya, and most times she still helped them with the cooking.  But now she helped run a large Western house like clockwork, in the tradition she had gotten used to as a child. She proved to be a wonderful new hostess during business-related dinners at their house, an inquisitive but unimposing young woman who wanted to learn everything she could about his world.  

                On this Saturday, she was moving around helter-skelter all over the house. While she was moving around more than usual, the moving around was rather normal, thus he ignored it for the most part.  

                Everything was so, annoyingly, normal. 

                Sitting at the second floor balcony with a blanket over his lap, he could only think of the thoughts that he usually buried deep in his head.  

                Who am I now?  What am I?   Why am I here?   Of the many possible times, why am I not dead yet?   What am I supposed to do now?  

                "You seem worried, so early in the morning, my dear," he heard a voice somewhat above him. 

He was feeling somewhat odd, and was not really sure if he had opened his eyes and looked up at the voice.  

The person felt at his forehead. "Slight fever," she tsked. "Why don't you go back to bed for a while?"

"I………am……….fine, just thinking about a few things," he answered, whoever it was speaking over him. 

"If you say so, but I need you to be really alright by tonight, understand, my white-haired baka?"  

Well, only one person called him a white-haired baka. "Oh………'Sao…………good morning…………..why, what is happening tonight?"  

"Can't tell you yet, but it'll be fun, I promise!"   

He was no longer listening. His wife just made him dizzier than a few minutes ago.  He barely made out his wife's voice as she patted his head. "You try too hard to be invincible, silly boy.  Even you can get sick. I'll come back with some water, alright?"  

"Have………to be………invincible………," he mumbled back.      

Indeed, he needed to be invincible. At least, he thought so. Only he could take care of himself. He had no family, and had few friends he could trust with his life. He needed to be strong. He needed to prove to his sister that he was the best, even if she was not there for him. He needed to show her that her memory drove him on to be something……………..he did not exactly know.  

It was odd. Now, he had become some person he did not initially want to be. But he knew this is what his sister would have wanted him to be. Instead of a headstrong and powerful man, he was now bordering on kindness. And his sister would have wanted it this way.  

He did not object to being this way, not at all. He liked that he did not have to look behind him every single minute, and worry about being shot. He liked it that people did not look at him with much fear now. He appreciated that he was known, in a good way, as a businessman worthy of respect.  Life was not boring, but it was much more peaceful. 

Was this what he wanted to be? Was this what he was supposed to be?  

_You are a pathetic weakling!_

He looked up at his accuser, and found it to be………..himself. 

                _You let that monster take your heart, you fool! Nee-san is frowning now!_

It was himself, when he was roughly 20 years old, when he was just made into the youngest dragon head, one of the most powerful bosses. It wore the orange and blue ensemble, the costume that sent fear into every corner of the Shanghai underworld.  

                _You had him in your grasp. You had him completely under foot. But you let him see your weakness, and you let him beat you. Now, you even accepted kindness from the beast. Worse, you have taken his side! Have you forgotten what he did to nee-san?_

He smirked at his younger self.  "You don't know what I know about that." 

                _What do I still need to know? It was bad enough nee-san went off to __Kyoto__ and left. But she had to get married to this redhaired assassin. Then, he killed nee-san! What else do I need to know? _

"That he did not mean it." 

                _That does not change the fact that he killed her. _

"He loved nee-san, even more than I did." 

                _That does not change the fact that HE KILLED HER! _

"True. But he has suffered enough about it himself, before I added insult to injury." 

                _You're rationalizing your defeat, loser!  _

"Shut up." 

                He looked at his younger self, head to foot. He found it hard to believe he was like that, 10 years ago. Angry, crafty, and reckless.  It was so long ago he had forgotten he was this way. The world only existed to help him eliminate a man, to help him avenge his sister. If it did not help him in his purpose, it did not exist.  

                He stared at the specter of himself. Over ten years, his white hair had not changed; it was still tousled and unruly. He had more or less kept himself fit, so he was still of the same build as before.  But his face had changed. In the eyes of his younger self, he saw the gleam of vengeance, but not the love of life.  Its mouth was chisled in an angry frown.  Its whole face had the look of fury.   

                Seriously? He looked like that before?  

                _What are you staring at, old timer? _

                "I just noticed how miserable I was before," he answered his specter. 

                _WHAT did you just SAY?!_

"And how hotheaded I was." He shook his head at himself.

_You are mistaken, very mistaken, about everything!_

He rested his head farther into his lounge chair, and gave his younger self another scan. "I was mistaken about a lot of things. But this life I have right now? It's no mistake. I have a good business, I have a nice wife, and I have a brother-in-law who could've killed me but didn't.  I already told 'Sao everything about myself, and still she finds it in her heart to accept me. So shut up about me being mistaken.  Disappear from my sight, and don't ever come again. And don't you dare send over your version of nee-san, because I know, nee-san is smiling from where she is."      

The specter folded its arms and tossed its snowy head with contempt, as it dematerialized before him.  

He closed his eyes again. The balcony seemed to spin around him if he kept it open. He knew he had said the right thing, so why was he feeling so miserable right now?  Soon he felt like he was in a bottomless vortex, spinning round and round, with no end in sight.  

But he felt someone hold his hand. A warm and delicate hand.  "Enishi? Are you alright?" A voice asked both from nearby and from outside the vortex. He also felt it hold his head.  

" 'Sao?" he asked. 

"Yeah, it's me. Can I get you anything?"

The spinning slowed down a bit, but still he was alone in that vast expanse of nothingness he had seen before. He called out to the world outside the nothingness, " 'Sao? Did I make a mistake?" 

"Mistake? About what?"  

"Maybe I shouldn't have gone back to Kyoto after I escaped from the police, after I lost to Himura. Maybe I shouldn't have stayed in touch with all of you.  Maybe I should've gone somewhere else to make a new life."  

"And you would've wandered around the place, like Himura and Seta did," she answered. "Look, it took Himura over 10 years to find his answers that way, and it took Sou-chan roughly 2 years to come to terms with himself. Did you really want to take that long to know what you wanted from life?"  

"I………..don't know." 

"If you left us, would you have known the truth about your past? Would we have met, I mean, really met? And would you have seen Kenji and been his friend?" 

He opened his eyes, looked up at her, and slowly shook his head.  She smiled and handed him a glass of water. 

She rose to leave, but Enishi still held her hand firmly. He brought her gently to sit over his lap, then embraced her.  

There had been other times when he had wrapped himself around this little woman, but he knew he would cherish this one.  In it, he felt not only her warmth and her love, but also the warmth and love of his sister.  In the presence of this bubbly woman, he also felt the constant loving presence of his sister.  

Misao would always be different from Tomoe, but with Misao beside him, he would never have to find comfort in Tomoe, again. He would find it in her, whenever he would need it, and he would have more than he would need. 

_Finally, my dear brother.__ Finally, I can leave you._

He heard his sister whisper from within him.  

_I will always be in your heart. But you will find your strength in her. _

He understood.  

_Farewell, Enishi. _

He wrapped his arms around his wife a little tighter.  

"It will be alright, my dear." Even she had felt it. "She will always be here with us." 

"But you will be even closer."  

"I will try."  

With a short kiss to her forehead, he released her and held her cheek. "Thank you." 

He then looked around in dismay at the darkening orange sky. He had been asleep on the balcony for most of the day. "Sorry about that, 'Sao, I know you told me to get inside………." 

"You were so fast asleep, I did not want to wake you," she gave him a happy smile. "But I felt your forehead just now and the fever's gone. Wanna go down to dinner now? I still have that surprise for you!" 

"I guess," he smiled back. "What's the occasion?"  

Misao's jaw dropped, then she laughed long and hard. "Baka! You never guessed! You totally forgot!" 

He did not understand. What did he forget that was so important?           

"I thought you already had everything back! I didn't think you'd still forget a few things!" she kept laughing.  "What kind of a man forgets his own birthday?" She held her stomach and continued to laugh. "Silly boy!"  

"Birthday? Really? Are you sure?" He scratched his head.  

She tugged at him to stand up, still laughing. "Get up and get dressed, hurry! Your surprise is waiting downstairs!" She then skipped off.  

"Silly weasel," he chuckled.  He was eternally thankful that the silly weasel was his own to love.    

He came down the grand staircase of the house, wearing his favorite white, silk Chinese jacket. The one with the large purple stripe across the sleeves and surrounding the buttons. He wore them over pants of the same white silk.  His wife was waiting for him at the door of the dining room. She, too, was looking her best, wearing a blue kimono with cherry blossoms at the hem. 

"Happy birthday!" she greeted, and opened the door.  This was followed by a thunderous "Happy Birthday!" and noisemakers from inside. 

 And soon he found a squealing little boy hugging his knees. "Eni-chan! Eni-chan! I've missed you, Eni-chan!" 

"Kenji-kun!" He took up the boy in his arms and raised him high. "How big you've grown! My, you're a rather large birthday present!" The little boy kept smiling and laughing with Enishi. 

A very traditional Japanese banquet was spread out on a new, low, and wide lacquered table. Surrounding the table were Kenji's parents and adopted uncle, all with wide smiles. 

"I hope you don't mind, but I invited them over to stay for two weeks," Misao explained. "This is Kenji's first time to leave Tokyo, and it has been a while since Kaoru-san and Yahiko were here last…………" 

"If this is your big surprise, weasel, it isn't," he interrupted.  

The dining hall suddenly shushed, even Kenji.  

"Messenger boys, telegraphs from Tokyo, furniture orders, purchase of two futons, your increased frequency at the Aioya," he looked at Misao. "Since last week I knew they were coming." 

Her face clearly sunk at this.  

"How dare you do that to her!" Yahiko demanded. "She went through all this trouble to get us here for you, and that's all you can say? Shame on you!" 

"I'll have you know, sir, that I stopped taking in new students so I can come on this trip!" Kaoru added. "And look what you just did to Misao!" 

"You did not let me finish!" Enishi smirked at them all. 

He then smiled at Kenji, still in his arms with a look of shock. "I said, I knew you were coming since last week. It was rather obvious from all the receipts lying around the house. But it doesn't mean I did not want you to come. So I kept quiet. It's therefore no surprise to me. However, I did forget WHY she would have reason to invite you to Kyoto. I haven't celebrated my birthday for a very long time," he said with embarrassment. "I AM glad you are here."    

They all breathed a sigh of relief, but kept looking at him, as if wondering what to do next.  

After a while he finally spoke. "Well? What in the world are you waiting for? You're all wasting such good food!" He sat down at the head of the table, took up the chopsticks and quickly snatched the nearest crab sushi.     

Misao showered tales of Europe upon the Himuras, and elaborated on the events she wrote about to them in her letters. Enishi listened quietly for the most part, and only inserted place names every once in a while when she forgot. He was not much of a talker to begin with, anyway. It was enough for him to see his little friend and his family after so long. It was a month since the couple's return from their trip. The Himuras had not seen them for half a year.  

The Himuras in turn told them about life in Tokyo, which had returned to normal as well. The Kamiya dojo now had two more assistant teachers aside from Yahiko, to help with the increasing number of students. Kenji was doing rather well with the basic kendo strokes. His Uncle Yahiko was teaching him, and while Kenji was your normal distractible 4-year-old, he was more patient than others in mastering the strokes, especially at his young age.  Every once in a while Kenji himself told stories of how he climbed the backyard tree, caught a dragonfly, drew a picture of his Eni-chan.  

It was a very enjoyable evening, filled with food, stories, and laughter. 

As the night wore on, Misao and Kaoru went out and brought Kenji to bed. Yahiko soon followed after them with a yawn, saying he would stay with the child. That left Enishi and Kenshin alone to talk, after the servants cleared the table.  

 "Is there anything I can do for you, by the way, Himura?" he first asked.  

Kenshin bowed. "Thank you, but life is good to us. Between Kaoru-dono's dojo and my teaching at the precinct, the finances are alright for what we need." 

"I see." He then thought for a while before speaking again. "I have an offer to make you, about Kenji." 

Kenshin looked at him with interest.  

"I understand that the Americans are making a school in Tokyo. It will have their Western curriculum, and the best of their education. In a school like that, your son will be taught French and English early, and will be able to see the world beyond Japan."

"But a school such as that, will be prohibitively expensive!" Kenshin complained, then understood what the uncle drove at. "Educational support for Kenji might be a burden to you!" 

"It will provide the boy an opportunity to be greater than you and I," Enishi explained. "With a Western education, he will have more opportunities to travel, improve himself……….." 

"Inherit your business," the father finished. 

"If he chooses, why not?" 

"Why would you want to do this, for us, for him, Enishi?"  

"I am not sure, but I have been taking from people for so long I want to give something in return." 

Kenshin nodded, then looked well at his brother-in-law. "I thank you for the kind offer. My wife and I will consider it. But if you want to show kindness so badly………….I suggest you start with the people just around you here." 

"How?" 

"You will know, when you see it," Kenshin smiled. "Just look around." 

They talked of other things afterward, but in Himura's simple answer, he had found an answer to his questions that morning. It was a new reason to stay alive, a new purpose for living.  A troubled past now made him appreciate the bright future.  

This he considered, as he leaned on the railing of the balcony, gazing at the midnight sky. The guests had been properly brought to their rooms, the servants had gone to bed, and the house was now peaceful and still.   

Misao arrived, and offered a shawl. "Tomorrow, I'm taking Kenji for a boat ride in the lake, then we're going to the harbor to see the ships docking, then we'll all have lunch in the park, then we'll watch  ------- Enishi, you really have been altogether too serious today!"  

He sighed. " 'Sao, dear 'Sao, little weasel." He put an arm across her shoulders. "I was just thinking a lot. But," as he gazed up again at the sky, "starting today, the stars are now all aligned for me. Things could only get better from here." 

"I think so, too," Misao nuzzled into him and replied. " 'Nishi………just one thing…….."

"Hm?" 

"The Himuras being here, that wasn't my only surprise." 

"Hmmm?" 

She nodded.  " 'Nishi, remember that night, three weeks ago?" 

"I suppose………why?" 

"Well…………you see……….. …..I……..um………am…………um………" 

"Out with it, weasel! You aren't sick, are you?"  

"No, but……….but………….you see………….I……….am…………can't you guess?" 

He shook his head. 

"Well, I didn't tell the gang at dinner because I wanted you to be the first to know. You see, Enishi……………I…….I………we're……..going to have…………" 

"More guests? Is the smokestack of a policeman coming, too?" he asked with distaste. 

"No……NO! I didn't invite Saitou!" Misao took a deep breath and made a resolute face. "Yukishiro Enishi, you will soon have a baby."  

Enishi looked at her intently.  "Please run that by me again, Misao." 

"You're clueless at the most inappropriate times," she chuckled.  "I am pregnant, 'Nishi. We'll soon have a baby.  Clear enough for you?"  

It was clear enough.  He scooped her up and gave her a long kiss.  

"As I said, things can only get better from here."  

……………………………..

Watsuki-sensei never gave the exact day, but I know the birth month is May, if I'm not mistaken.  Also, I intentionally left Kenshin's decision on the question hanging.  I'm not sure myself what Oro-kun and Kaoru would decide on that.  Finally, I am not writing another pregnancy fic.  ^^  The White and Black and Nine Months storyline ends here.    

Thank you to all the reviewers:  

CardMistressSakura – Devil1 – CatH – bittersweetKandy – Mi – Dallisse – bee – Firuze Khanume – JML – Sabbie – beriath – The Magician of Black Chaos – Maeko-Nohara – NightRain2 – Jenna – Mary-Ann – aki6 – amy! – CurlsofSerenity – jbramx2 – kenni – scorpion05  

Thanks to the most loyal of them all:  

Firuze Khanume – for giving her constant plugging even when she didn't leave reviews.  ^^  I know you're busy, nee-san, I'm not taking it against you.  

JML – for the constant support for my work, and for all the objective comments 

Maeko-Nohara and all her incarnations – for all the quirky reviews, and all the support

Sabbie – for the constant support of the E/M pairing.  Congrats on getting into animation school!! 

Jbramx2 – for the nice E/M pic and for the nice reviews

CatH – for all the comments about inconsistencies   ^^  

Final review comments:   Everyone commented about the sweatdropping!  ^^  I did say, if it was possible, it would've happened.  Yeah, I'd like to see a picture of Enishi sweatdropping online too! I haven't been to Paris or anywhere near Europe! I've just had a good exposure to France on TV and Les Miserables.  Someday I'd really like to go.  Thanks for liking Sano's appearance.  

Thank you again for reading Taming a Tiger.  It was a blast writing about Enishi. Thanks for tagging along in his little search for himself.  I'm sorry if this didn't turn out so well. Many things were bothering my head in the school year this was made in, and it reflected in the writing.  I guess it's my fault why I lost a lot of reviewers, but that's OK. I'll try to do better next time.  Next school year will be even tougher than last year, so don't expect a lot out of me. But I'll still write whenever I get the chance.  

EK  out.  


End file.
